


Set Fire To My Skin, But Don't Call It A Burn

by DeanstielsDaughter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels in Heat (Supernatural), Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, potential smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26586388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanstielsDaughter/pseuds/DeanstielsDaughter
Summary: The Winchester brothers find out that Jack is a bit under the weather, but there may be another reason for it other than human sickness, and look to their other resident angel to help with the matter. Meanwhile, Castiel and Dean are dancing around a similar problem as Jack's, along with some vital information that Castiel has been keeping from Dean. Information regarding some ongoing feelings he may have for the hunter that he hopes are reciprocated.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Clark Barker/Jack Kline
Comments: 108
Kudos: 241





	1. One

Dean sat in the middle of the bunker, papers strewn about, and his patience wearing extra thin.

He hadn’t understood how he’d gotten the short end of the stick for the day. Sam had somehow gotten it into his head that the brothers needed to digitalize most of the files left over from the Men of Letters, just in case something were to happen to the bunker. It wasn’t entirely out of the realm of things that were possible, but Dean would have given his left arm to be the one to not have to get started on the, in his opinion, pointless project.

Still, it had left the elder Winchester with a few hours of quiet that he had so desperately been craving recently. Somewhere between the search for the devil, the regular hunts that consumed the spare moments of what little free time the brothers had, and what seemed like the end of the world round three, Dean had forgotten what rest felt like.

He took a sip of what he would have definitely considered to be a well-earned beer and begun inputting a new file into the computer system. Something about werewolf blood being part of a potential cure for being bitten. Most of it was things he already knew, but every once in a while, (much to Sam’s amusement) he’d be caught reading up on something the Men of Letters had compiled and taking it deep into his well of knowledge. Expunging previous notions, he’d had for years due to following nothing, but John Winchester’s journal.

It was nice to have an outsider’s perspective. The Men of Letters had compiled many a file on creatures Sam and Dean had only heard legends about, and some of those legends had proven to be true recently on a few side hunts. Sam swore they wouldn’t have been able to stop the monsters otherwise, thus leading to a newfound sense of respect from Dean regarding the importance of research.

Of course, he’d never tell Sam that.

Dean turned his head at the sound of the bunker door creaking open, fingers reflexively twitching for his gun even though he knew who it was, and he smiled when he saw Jack slowly descending the stairs followed by Sam and Castiel.

“Hey kid,” Dean called out. “How was training?”

Jack remained silent for a moment, carefully and methodically setting his bag down on the main map table and looking over at Dean.

“It went well,” Sam answered for him, and motioned with his head for Jack to take off. Jack hesitated a moment, but then obliged. His feet dragging ever so slightly as he made his way off to his room.

Dean watched Castiel, the angel stood with his hands in his pants pockets, something he rarely did, and watched Jack go with the intensity of a mother wolf. Dean spun his chair to the left, silently giving a Sam a confused look.

“I did some shooting drills with Jack,” Sam explained. “I figured he’d need to know how to defend himself, should he ever be without his powers. He did great, but towards the end he seemed unfocused and sluggish. He missed a few easy shots and slept pretty much the whole way on the car ride home.”

“I’m sure he’s just tired, Sam.” Dean replied.

“I think he might be sick, Dean,” Sam said. “Cas thinks so too.”

“Would make sense,” Dean shrugged. “He’s pretty new to this world, probably picked up a few germs around town. Does he need anything?”

“Not sure,” Sam shook his head. “He didn’t really talk for most of the ride. First half he spent staring off into space and the second half he was out cold. Ask Cas, he spent the whole ride making sure the kid wasn’t dying or anything.”

Dean looked over at Castiel, who quickly averted his gaze from the hunter’s the moment their eyes met. Dean considered commenting on the strange behavior. Was Castiel mad at him for some reason? The angel seemed to be a little tense and his hands were rarely ever anywhere inside of his pant pockets or trench coat.

“I will attend to Jack if the two of you need to get some work done.” Castiel said, clearing his throat ever so softly, as he met Dean’s eyes once more.

“It’s fine Cas,” Dean stood up and gave a confused look upon noticing Castiel abruptly backing away from him, but then correcting himself.

“I’ve been meaning to bone up on mom’s recipes anyway, we’ll make soup.”

“We?” Sam asked, already diving into the file that Dean had abandoned.

“Alright just me,” Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed his now empty beer bottle from the table. “C’mon Cas, we’ll leave Samantha to his precious research.”

“I must attend to Jack,” Castiel piped up, a bit quickly, and he swallowed hard when Dean met his eyes. “You understand, just wanting to make sure it’s not something more serious.”

“Right.” Dean nodded and Castiel slowly nodded back, taking off in the direction of the hallway to the bedrooms. Dean stared at the entrance long after he was gone.

“Is Cas acting a little, strange to you?” Dean asked.

“No more than usual,” Sam replied. “At least from what I’ve seen.”

“Right,” Dean said again, not fully believing his brother’s words, but he didn’t argue. “Anyway, I’ll be gathering supplies for my time in the kitchen, if I’m needed.”

Sam let out a sort of grunt mixed with a nod and Dean walked away, even more put off than before.

“If it ain’t Sammy,” Dean muttered and started grabbing some of the things he’d need for cooking the biggest pot of soup known to man, before grabbing his wallet and keys and making his way towards the Impala.

“There’s always something up with the damn angels.”


	2. Two

Jack felt terrible, in all senses of the word.

The training with Sam had gone well for what it was, but all day there had been this almost burning and tingling sensation underneath Jack’s skin. He couldn’t describe it any other way.

He knew humans got this way sometimes. Sam had called it “being sick”, but there was something else. A feeling, nagging at his chest and not leaving him alone. It, along with the intense backache where his wings would have manifested in a plane other than Earth, were hard to ignore.

It was longing. That was the only way Jack could describe it.

He wasn’t sure if humans felt this way when they were sick or not. The way Castiel had ushered him back to the car, and protectively watched over him the whole ride home, led Jack to believe there was something the Seraph was not telling him. Something he knew was causing this whole mess.

Right in that moment, though, Jack just felt tired to the bone. His legs about gave out from underneath him the moment he reached his bed. He laid back against the pillow and closed his eyes, taking a long slow breath. The room spun.

“Jack?” he heard Castiel ask from behind the door.

Jack felt a wave of slight nausea overtake him. He swallowed hard and leaned his head in the direction of his bedroom door.

“Yes? Come in.” Jack replied.

Castiel slowly entered the room, looking around, and taking in the sight of Jack’s bedroom. The young Nephilim had finally made it his own, hanging up posters from the local record store and the artwork from the thrift store in town. The bedsheets and the rug had been picked out by Jack upon a trip to Target last time he’d joined the brothers on a hunt. A picture of his mother was on the side table.

It was simple. It was Jack.

“I believe that I may know what the issue is.” Castiel licked his lips and sighed, before putting his hands back in his pockets.

“Whatever it is,” Jack commented. “I feel as though I am on fire.”

“You’re not the only one.”

Castiel stared Jack in the eyes and Jack felt this overwhelming sense of anxiety. Castiel had been on edge ever since they’d returned from the training session. The angel had been jumpy, hiding his hands, appearing as though he was uncomfortable in his own skin.

“It’s a heat cycle.” Castiel said.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow. We are hot? Should we just stand inside the freezer for a moment then? Will that help?” Jack cocked his head, still feeling that feeling of loneliness and longing deep down inside. There were other things swirling around in his gut, but those two were the strongest.

“When Father made us,” Castiel explained. “The angels, He made us in the image of animals and of man. Of every living creature there was to walk the Earth. Certain…traits were made similar.”

Jack sat up straighter. The tingling sensation grew with Castiel around, and Jack could sense Castiel was feeling something similar. It was as though both of their skin held an itch, they couldn’t quite scratch.

“Animals must reproduce to keep a species going,” Castiel continued. “Angels do not do such things in the same manner as said animals, but we seem to have maintained some of the same traits as female animals when it comes to the subject, at least in vessels, we have.”

“So,” Jack concluded. “We’re ready to do inappropriate things?"

“You,” Castiel said, in the tone of a strict mother. “Are ready for no such thing. At most, you will probably experience more emotional aspects of the whole process, as you are not entirely angel. Your human side will come in handy during this time.”

“And you?” Jack asked.

“I will manage,” Castiel said, looking a bit pained when he said it. “This isn’t the first time I have gone through this.”

“How long will this last?” Jack asked.

“Hard to tell,” Castiel replied. “Typically, effects wear off in a few days, usually three to four, but this seems to be a mild beginning. At least, for you, it is.”

“Do the Winchesters know?” Jack swallowed hard. This whole ordeal sounded mildly terrifying and Castiel was acting stranger than usual.

“I will inform Sam.” Castiel turned to leave, hearing Jack’s voice one more time when his fingers hit the doorknob.

“Not Dean?” Jack questioned.

Castiel’s back muscles tensed. Even the sound of Dean’s voice on another’s lips was enough to make his body start to ache. No, he couldn’t tell Dean. Sam was safer. He wouldn’t say anything.

“Yes,” Castiel quickly corrected himself, but Jack was still unconvinced. “I meant to say that.”

Castiel nodded at Jack, assuring him he’d be back soon, and opened the door to leave.

***

“I’m telling you man, Cas is fine.” Dean shook his head, debating with Sam as the pair walked down the hall towards Jack’s room.

“If he wasn’t, he’d tell us.”

“Oh, like you’re so good at that yourself,” Sam rolled his eyes. “If there’s one thing I hope Jack _doesn’t_ learn from us, it’s how to repress your feelings.”

“Alright Samantha,” Dean grumbled. “Don’t push it.”

The pair made it to the hallway with the bedrooms, feeling generally annoyed with one another, and Sam went to knock on Jack’s door, just as Dean’s hand went up to it as well. They clanked knuckles and Dean hissed in slight pain.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Sam felt immense pressure on his wrist. He was being pushed into the wall and unable to move forward, almost dropping the bottle of Gatorade he held in his other hand.

“Cas, what the hell?!” Dean exclaimed.

Castiel had an almost feral look to him and Sam felt his heart rate increase ever so slightly in fear. He hadn’t been afraid of Castiel in a long time, but this felt as though the angel could easily sink his teeth into Sam’s throat and not let go.

Moments later, something shifted, and a feeling of realization overcame Castiel. Sam had not been trying to attack Dean in any way. They were simply going for the same door and their hands touched abruptly. Castiel’s instincts had taken over. Instincts that were in overdrive because of what was going on.

“My apologies…” Castiel stammered and let Sam off the wall. The younger Winchester caught his breath and gave Castiel a strange look. The angel backed up and flew off immediately, not bothering to look either brother in the eye as he did so.

“Weird…” Dean commented and pushed open Jack’s door.

“You’re telling me.” Sam nodded and followed his brother into Jack’s room, hoping to provide at least some comfort for the kid until they figured out what was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review!  
> It has been a while; I didn’t mean to put this fic up and then not update. A lot of shit has been happening lately. School is a lot. I wash dishes now at work on top of bussing some days. I also just recently found out that my cat is dying, and we don’t know how long he has. That’s been extremely hard to have on my mind. I raised him, but he’s had a good life so far and we’ll see what happens. I’ve just been crying a lot and it’s been hard to focus, but I had a good period of time today, so I pumped the rest of this chapter out for you guys as a way of taking my mind off things for a moment.   
> I hope everyone is well. The next chapter will hopefully be out soon. I will not abandon this story or any of my other stories, but updates may be less frequent, mostly due to school.


	3. Three

Castiel landed on the other side of Lebanon and closed his eyes, while breathing heavily.

His skin was practically on fire. In fact, it hurt for the air to even touch him. This was common, but he hadn’t expected it to come on so strong and so soon. Castiel pulled his coat closer to his body, and tried his best to keep his eyes away from the people he passed on the walk back home.

He supposed it was absurd, walking all the way back to the bunker when he had the capability to fly, but he had felt an extreme impulse to be alone. To be away. The way he had grabbed Sam’s wrist was most likely to leave a bruise. The angel felt horrible, but the deep primal instinct had simple taken over and he hadn’t been able to stop it.

All because of Dean.

Dean Winchester flashed through the angel’s mind. The hunter’s deep green eyes and his crooked smile, whenever he finally let it show, were all Castiel could see and he felt his shoulder blades and back go rigid near his wings. A twisting sensation presented itself deep in the front of his gut and Castiel swallowed hard at the feeling. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to go back to the bunker, to touch Dean, and to be near him. It was literally painful.

He had to go back, for Jack. The poor Nephilim did not know the entirety of what was to come.

He had to hide what was going on from the brothers, if not both of them, at least from Dean.

Castiel felt his phone vibrate.

_Hey, what’s going on?_

Luckily, it was Sam who texted and Castiel sighed, looking around and trying his best not to brush against a passerby as he walked down the street, looking at the phone screen and deciding how to respond.

_I will explain later. I promise. I am sorry, Sam._

Castiel silenced his phone and kept walking.

***

Jack paced his room, feeling his body start to ache from the repeated motion and the changes happening that he still didn’t understand, but he couldn’t stop moving.

It was as though there were marching ants in his legs, tickling his skin from the inside and not stopping for anything, and certainly not allowing him to take a break mentally either.

Jack felt hot. He felt like he had (at least from what he’d googled in the twenty minutes everyone had left him alone) the flu, but he knew it wasn’t the case. The flu didn’t cause such emotional distress or absurd thoughts as what Castiel described was happening to Jack.

Jack suddenly wished he weren’t alone.

He didn’t understand why Castiel had left so suddenly. Jack had heard the angel fly off the moment he’d also heard Sam and Dean’s confused sounding voices outside the door. Something about Sam being attacked. Jack found this odd. He had rarely ever seen Castiel fight with the two brothers, and when he had, it had not been that bad.

When Sam had come into the room wincing every time, he used his right wrist, Jack had felt a slight twinge of anxiety and fear.

Had Castiel done something to Sam, and if so, why?

Jack sipped on the Gatorade Sam had brought him and munched on the crackers Dean had placed on the side table. It calmed some of the nausea, but there was another matter to attend to that was growing increasingly hard to ignore.

Jack could feel a small tingling sensation in his gut, right in the front of his body, and it wouldn’t go away. It made the longing sensation come even harder every time he thought about it and his mind wandered.

_An image of longer, wavy black hair and blue eyes. A red sporty jacket and a black shirt. The last thing he saw him in._

Embarrassment flooded through Jack as the longing feeling intensified upon seeing the image in his mind and the tingling feeling traveled all through him until he felt it deep in where his wings would manifest if he weren’t on an Earthly plane.

He hadn’t thought about Clark Barker in years. The boy who had been taken pity on Jack when he’d been detained at the North Cove Police Station when Jack had first come into the world. Clark’s mother had also taken pity on Jack and provided him with his first pieces of clothing (clothing he still owned and that was tucked away carefully in his dresser) and tried to help him after he'd stated he was trying to find his father.

He and Clark had spent their only time together eating candy bars and laughing. He could hear Clark’s laughter even now, and how it was one of the first beautiful sounds Jack had ever heard.

The angels had messed everything up and Clark had been stabbed by one of their blades before they were killed. Clark had been rushed to the hospital, his mother by his side. Jack had made Sam hack into the computer system one day, learning the teen survived, but he hadn’t seen him since the incident.

He barely knew the boy, but still the feeling persisted.

It left the question of why he was feeling this strong a connection to a boy he barely knew.

Jack continued eating his crackers and pacing the floor, trying to silence thoughts he decided were best shared with nobody, even though confusion reigned supreme.

***

Castiel found Sam in the library. He looked both ways upon entering, trying his best to read the room when Sam looked into his eyes.

“Sam…” Castiel started.

“I’ve been doing research,” the younger Winchester shut the book lying on the table in front of him and delivered his signature line.

“But I’d rather hear it from the source. Everything the Men of Letters have on what I suspect is happening, might not be accurate. They didn’t see many angels in their time.”

It was silent for a moment. Castiel swallowed hard. He had never had to explain this to anyone before. It was simply a time in the past that he locked himself away, when in Heaven, and tried to avoid his brothers and sisters for fear of what might happen when they all suffered from the same affliction.

He hadn’t lied to Dean, way back when, when he’d said he’d never had relations. He wasn't the only one, but sometimes it had felt like it.

“Can Dean hear us?” Castiel asked.

Sam hesitated for a moment, giving Castiel a look.

“Just…please.” Castiel pleaded.

“No,” Sam replied with confusion. “He went for beer, dinner, and more stuff for Jack. Why?”

“It’s called a ‘heat’,” Castiel closed his eyes and clenched his fists, as though he was revealing a deep dark secret of the universe.

“Like?” Sam baited him to say more.

“Like animals,” Castiel continued. “The…desire, the need to mate. It effects all angels every few centuries. I guess Father’s cruelty strikes again in this one.”

“So,” Sam tried his best to understand. “You’re like, what? Excessively horny?”

“That’s a blunt way to put it, but yes,” Castiel backed away slightly from the younger Winchester. “I am sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable, Sam. I never meant to harm you either.”

Castiel motioned to Sam’s wrist, which was currently in an Ace Bandage and Sam looked down at it before waving the angel off.

“It’s okay,” Sam chuckled. “I’ve had worse.”

Sam noticed Castiel’s eyes darting around, as though he were trying to avoid something.

Or someone.

The moment Castiel had said the word 'mate', Sam's mind managed to put all the puzzle pieces together.

A strong desire to protect. It was mentioned in what little notes the Men of Letters had written. Why he'd been attacked the moment he'd accidentally touched Dean.

Apparently, a strong desire at that, was in Castiel.

“I take it that Dean is the reason I have a bruised wrist right now?” Sam gave Castiel a crooked smile, realization starting to take over.

“He cannot know!” Castiel snapped, unintentionally, and quickly recoiled once he realized he had caused Sam to jump up in his seat.

“Alright,” Sam held his hands out, as though to calm a riled dog. “I won’t tell him. I think _you_ should say something though. I feel like he’d understand. We’ve dealt with weirder shit over the years.”

Castiel considered Sam’s words. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but this was different. The way, the things, Castiel was thinking about Dean. Such thoughts he could never share.

No, Dean couldn’t know. It would change or ruin everything.

“I must attend to Jack,” Castiel quickly changed the subject and started for the door. “I will try and make this as comfortable as possible for him and the least awkward as possible for the two of you. Humans don’t tend to understand the full spectrum of this whole thing and it will grow more...intense as it goes along. It is honestly best for me to just avoid your brother until this is over. I do hope you understand.”

Castiel left as quickly as he had come, and Sam tried to ignore the energy leftover in the room long after he left and shove down the leftover questions the younger Winchester still had.

It wasn’t long after that, Dean came back, carrying a full case of beer, some fast-food takeout and medication for Jack. He plopped it all down on the table before him, and Sam lifted his head once he heard a peculiar sound echo through the room and his reading was interrupted once again.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked, annoyed.

“You don’t smell that?” Dean asked.

“No,” Sam cocked his head ever so slightly, annoyed at having to close his book once again. “What?”

“Like pine,” Dean described. “Mixed with electricity. Kind of like after it rains. You got something plugged in or something?”

"No," Sam was confused. "I dont smell anything, Dean." 

"Weird..." The other hunter shrugged, but it was clear he was fixated on the scent. 

Castiel watched from the hallway, unknown to the brothers, and sighed upon hearing Dean speak. The angel turned away from the edge of the doorway and stormed off down the hall before he could be found out.

It was worse than he’d originally thought.

If Dean could smell his scent, and Sam could not, it meant that Castiel's suspicions were confirmed. 

Dean was his intended mate. It was rare,with humans, but sometimes it happened. 

Eventually, there would be no hiding it from the elder Winchester and Castiel feared for the consequences of that more than he’d feared anything in his almost immortal life.

He continued down the hall, afraid to look back until he reached the safety of his own bedroom, and closed the door tightly behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review!  
> I’m sorry if these chapters seem kind of info dumpy at times. I wanted to keep a small sense of mystery, but also explain some of the side effects of the angels’ conditions. Eventually, the dominos will fall into place, and yes Clark will come into this! Probably in the next chapter!  
> I will see you all then!


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my OCs is briefly mentioned/makes an appearance in this story, but you do not need to know about him previously than this. He will not show up again in this story, and if he does it will be brief.

Clark Barker was honestly surprised that he wasn’t dead yet.

He sheathed the machete like knife he carried in its case and limped ever so slightly to his awaiting red Nissan GT-R. It was parked slightly off the road, hidden from plain sight from the road (watching his cop mother had taught him every trick in the book), and Clark winced as he looked down at his bloody leg and reached for his keys with a shaky hand.

He tossed the knife in the backseat, not caring at the moment to stow it in the trunk with his other weapons, even though if he were to take off driving, he probably should in case he got pulled.

The pain was too much for him to take off driving.

Clark leaned his head back in the seat, as he lifted his bum leg into the car and hissed, crying out and grabbing for the injury.

Bite marks went deep into his thigh and blood seeped out with every abrupt movement. Clark could feel a tingle deep in his veins, mixed with bruise-like pain, and his limbs felt tenser with every pump of his heart.

The vampires had been hard to kill, but he’d somehow managed on his own. He’d been managing on his own for almost a year now.

Clark closed his eyes and saw his mother. Or rather, what she used to look like when she was alive. The last time the two of them had been together, they’d both been hunting some strange creature on the outskirts of North Cove. His mother had “zigged when she was supposed to have zagged” and ended up with her throat torn out.

Clark knew, deep down, it wasn’t his fault, but he still felt responsible. Ever since the angel attack, after the strange boy Jack had shown up naked at his old work, Clark had started to notice things he hadn’t before.

Strange occurrences. Explanations for things that hadn’t had them before. He’d started doing research. He’d done a few things by himself until his mother had found all his journals and writings and questioned him.

Surprisingly, the conversation had gone well. His mother had explained what the strange brothers had told her when they'd showed up for Jack, and she’d made the decision she was going to join her son in his crazy quest to explain the unexplainable. So, she’d quit the force, and they’d started over, but the universe had had other plans.

Now, Clark was homeless, legally responsible for himself, living out of his car, getting high and listening to music on his radio after successful hunts, and, apparently, also almost getting himself killed when things went slightly less than planned.

Part of him had wished the current hunt had gone differently. That he had ended up dead. At least that way, he’d get to see his mom again. She deserved that much after the shit he’d put her through while he was growing up and rebelling.

_"I love you, baby.”_

Her last words still stuck with him like a phantom limb.

Clark felt his vision starting to go blurry. He was so damn tired, he could just pass out right then and there, but he fought the urge to close his eyes. Instead, he searched for his location and tried to read the phone screen and his hand shook so violently, he had trouble doing so.

_Lebanon, Kansas 0.5 miles._

He pocketed his phone and keys and climbed out of his car. He shut the door with a violent thud and started walking. The sun was starting to come up. He couldn’t believe it had been twenty-four hours since he’d started the hunt.

It hurt like all hell to move, but if he could at least make it to the nearby town, he’d have a chance of getting help before something terribly bad happened.

***

Dean had volunteered to get breakfast, and thus found himself coming back from the only diner in a few miles radius by special request of Sam. Supposedly, it was because it was the only one that served good vegetarian breakfast burritos, but Dean had begun to suspect there were other reasons behind Sam’s request.

Both Sam and Castiel had started to act weird as of the night before. Dean, at first, had simply assumed he’d done something to piss one or the both of them off. Sam was still speaking to him though, but somehow finding every excuse to have him leave the bunker for extended periods of time.

He had already gone out twice last night for two different supply runs, both of which mostly consisted of snacks and nonsensical stuff.

Dean sighed when he reached the road to pull off into Lebanon and tried not to dig too deeply into it. Jack was sick. Castiel usually acted strange anyway, even though this was still a bit abnormal for even him. Sam was always keeping Dean on his toes.

Things were fine, right?

All of a sudden, Dean smelled it again. That strange scent he’d encountered the night before. He started sniffing, driving himself crazy with the thought of finding where it was coming from. The last person to drive the car was Sam. Maybe his younger brother was using new cologne or shower gel?

Dean pulled a tissue from the floorboard and the smell got a lot stronger.

The tissue was covered in some oily residue, unlike any snot or anything Dean had ever seen, and Dean rubbed it in between his fingers, releasing even more of the smell when he did so.

Dean had always loved the smell of the world after it rained. Ever since he was a little kid, it filled him with this unmistakable sensation of joy and feeling free. The feeling of the droplets on his skin. The smell of the trees and ground outside after it occurred.

Dean shifted ever slightly in the driver’s seat, suddenly feeling an onslaught of another sensation taking over.

The hunter’s jeans were becoming increasingly tight for no known reason. He felt a wave of desire and a surge of almost what felt like electricity take over his body and wrap it in a hug. Dean let one hand go from the wheel and cupped himself, trying to adjust and drag the fabric away from the sensitive area. Images suddenly flashed through his head.

Images of Castiel and him being close to him, needing to be close to him. Needing to touch him. Needing Castiel to do unspeakable things to him.

Dean hit the brakes and swerved a bit off to the side of the road, he had thrown the tissue with the weird substance on it out the window the moment it had started to cause the reaction he had just had. The moment the smell went away, Dean felt his zipper straining less and the need to touch himself went down exponentially, until it was finally non-existent.

Dean panted heavily and breathed out a loud, large sigh once he got control of himself again. The thoughts were gone. The impulse was too. He was lucky no cop had seen him toss the tissue or he’d probably have gotten a ticket on top of whatever had just happened.

And it would have been Hell trying to explain the tent in his pants for his best friend.

Dean shook his head, chalking it up to something that had to be witchcraft. There were usually at least a few monsters that had it out for Sam and Dean, even long after a hunt was done.

That had to be it.

Dean pulled back onto the main road, still a bit shaken, and continued on his way back to the bunker.

***

Castiel sat on the edge of his bed, closing his eyes, and trying something he hadn’t in a long time.

Praying was difficult, especially after all that happened, and about such a delicate subject.

 _“To any angels that will answer, please…I need to know what to do.”_ he prayed, looking upward, and closing his eyes.

Castiel waited a moment and then heard a flap of wings.

“What times we’re living in,” a familiar voice spoke up and Castiel turned to see an old friend.

Cathalsis was a Healer up in Heaven. It was his job to deal with angels afflicted by really anything, including the heat cycle, but the angel still kept his distance.

His vessel was practically glowing. His vessel’s blonde hair was a bit shaggier than the first time he’d possessed the man, but the rest of him still looked the same. The crooked glasses at the bottom of his nose, the business casual clothing, the calming voice. He’d kept many an angel alive during various wars, patching up their wounds and keeping them mentally together. Castiel included himself in this statement.

Cathalsis really was the perfect advocate for unhealthy or struggling angels. Always had been.

“Father has a cruel sense of humor,” Castiel grumbled and stood to face the other angel. Hormones surged through the both of them, feral and primal, but they maintained composure. Cathalsis was a trained professional in that.

“I think Father has less to do with this,” Cathalsis replied. “And it has more to do with the fact that you finally found that human of yours.”

“You are suffering from the same affliction, brother,” Castiel said. “The Nephilim as well, only not as strongly. After all, he is half human.”

“The affliction,” Cathalsis actually smirked. “It only gets stronger once one meets their true mate and it doesn’t stop until they recognize it.”

“I have recognized it,” Castiel almost growled in frustration.

“You know what I mean.” Cathalsis cocked his head ever so slightly and playfully smiled.

“He must never know,” Castiel sighed, clenching his fists at his sides as more anxiety and anguish overtook him the more, he thought about the elder Winchester. “It would ruin everything.”

“You say that, but you do not know,” Cathalsis replied. “You have been with the humans too long, Castiel. They have taught you to falsely speculate or anticipate outcomes.”

“I have known Dean Winchester for almost more than ten years,” Castiel said, looking Cathalsis in the eyes. “I know the way he walks. I know the way he talks. Hell, I even know the way he breathes. I know his desires, his thoughts. His prayers to me speak volumes.”

Cathalsis withdrew for a moment, taking in the words Castiel was speaking.

“When I rescued him,” Castiel continued. “A piece of his soul came into contact with my grace. I believe this is how I came to be the way I am, a humanity that was placed inside of me when I came out of the pit. I knew all along, Dean was most likely my intended one, but I never acted on it and I never will. It would be unfair to him.”

“It’s unfair to you too you know,” Cathalsis said. “This unrequited feeling. It will eat you up inside until it destroys you if it hasn’t already.”

Castiel bowed his head, looking away from the Medic angel and contemplating what he’d said.

“Think about it,” Cathalsis said, his hands in his pockets. “Take two and call me in the morning.”

Cathalsis flew away and Castiel was left alone, once again. The room felt suffocating and overwhelming. His wings ached. The oil coming from them was even leaking through the back of his trench coat. Though his wings could not come out on an Earthly plane, their traits were still there.

He grabbed a tissue from the bedside table, removed his coat, and dabbed at the back of his clothing. The oil came out and bled into the white fabric. Castiel sniffed it, and it was growing stronger by the moment.

Cathalsis was right. His heat would not stop until he either satiated it or died, and one of those things was far less likely to happen anytime soon.

Castiel suddenly heard a crashing sound from the front stairs of the bunker and he ran out his bedroom door and listened.

“ _I need a little help in here!”_ Sam called out.

Castiel took off running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review!  
> A bit of a longer chapter this time! I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope everyone enjoys. Everything will start moving along from here on out and believe me, sexual tension is coming! No pun intended lol. Okay, maybe it was a little intended.  
> I hope everything about the angel’s heats is making sense. I will have more come to light once some conversations are had and there is still plenty of feels and sexy things yet to come! ;)  
> See y’all in the next chapter!


	5. Five

The energy that was created at the convergence of all four people in the bunker was astounding.

Sam watched Castiel tense up and go rigid the moment he saw Dean. The angel took a few steps back, reassessing the situation before him and Sam noticed that even Dean had tensed up for a moment himself. Pursing his lips like he often did when he was frustrated or confused.

Jack seemed shocked, staring wide eyed at Sam and the black-haired kid passed out in his arms.

“He just showed up,” Sam shrugged, addressing everyone. “I think he’s been attacked by something.”

Sam waited, waited for someone to address his words, but it was as though everyone had gone mute all of a sudden. Dean bit his lip and his eyes flitted away from Castiel’s. The smell was back, and Dean shook his head, trying to push his thoughts away.

“Let’s get him in a bed.” Dean practically squeaked out, trying to keep his voice normal and ran to his brother’s side, helping to lift the kid up and carry him to the infirmary.

Jack practically jumped at the opportunity to help, but his gut jumped too, and stopped him from moving. The tingling feeling returned, and he felt it practically engulf his entire being. It only got stronger the more he looked at the black-haired kid passed out in Sam and Dean’s arms.

“Jack…” Castiel said, half as a warning, half out of concern.

“I’m fine,” Jack snapped, waiting to speak again until the brothers were out of earshot. “It’s just that feeling we talked about…it just got stronger.”

Castiel swallowed hard, knowing full well what Jack was referencing. His instincts had gone into overdrive the moment Dean had stepped into the room. He’d successfully avoided the hunter for a full day, with Sam’s help.

It had been agonizing even being in the same airspace. Even for a mere moment.

“I know exactly how you feel, Jack.” Castiel finished.

***

Dean and Sam set the comatose kid down on one of the infirmary beds and they took a step back to examine the situation.

Dean rubbed at his nose and tried to free himself from the same assaulting smell that had come into his system once again the moment he’d stepped foot back in the bunker. He shifted ever so slightly, hoping Sam didn’t notice.

At least the same problem he had the car wasn’t glaringly obvious this time.

“This kid looks familiar,” Sam cocked his head, examining the wound on his leg.

Dean’s memory suddenly came back to him now that clarity had as well. Their first interaction with Jack. The North Cove police station. Him talking to the Sheriff and explaining what Jack was.

“Barker,” Dean pointed at the kid and sniffed one last time, earning a slightly confused look from Sam.

“The kid’s last name is Barker. Think his mom called him Clark. We met him when we were trying to find Jack the first time.”

Realization came over Sam and he immediately motioned to the medical kit that was on the self behind Dean.

“Kind of random isn’t it,” Sam commented. “For him to show up here.”

There was no such thing as random. Dean knew that. Maybe whatever had brought Clark to them had something to do with the wiring in his brain being so off lately.

“Since when is anything ever just a coincidence with us.” Dean replied.

Sam nodded, dressing the wound after adding some medicinal cream to it. Both brothers turned to look at the sound of the infirmary’s door opening and closing rapidly and both angels stood at its entrance, looking down at the trio.

“Is he alright?” Jack asked, innocently enough.

Dean couldn’t help but notice the way Castiel looked at Jack, motherly and protective. It caused a little half smile to creep its way across the hunter’s face. A smile and a feeling that only intensified when Castiel’s eyes met his. The angel quickly looked away, almost seeming embarrassed for a reason Dean couldn’t identify.

Dean noticed something else too, a mild look of pain, and his stomach lurched.

Was Castiel hurt? Was that why he was acting so strangely?

“Excuse me.” Castiel nodded and quickly left the room, shutting the door hard behind him.

Dean heard a whooshing sound, indicating the angel had flown away, and he felt even more concern than before. If Castiel was hurt in some way, he needed to know. He wanted to know.

The same instinct he’d seen the angel give to Jack flooded through him. Strong and powerful like a wave. It was almost overwhelming.

Rain. The smell of rain was strong right before Castiel left.

“Dean,” Jack said, and he heard Sam clear his throat, breaking Dean’s trance. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean quickly turned around, changing the subject. “I’m good. You, on the other hand, look like Hell on two legs. What are you doing out of bed?”

“I,” Jack stammered, and Dean cocked his head once again, noticing the Nephilim had the same strangled movements as Castiel earlier.

“I am okay for right now.” Jack nodded, trying his best to convince the brothers he felt a bit better.

Castiel had promised him he would help, but in exchange, Jack had to keep his mouth shut. Although the Winchesters dealt in the unnatural, this was apparently something that was beyond their understanding.

Or, at least, that was what Castiel had told Jack. Jack wasn’t sure if he fully believed him or not.

“How about this Barker kid, is he okay?” Dean asked.

“Looks like a vampire bite,” Sam remarked. “He hasn’t turned yet. Maybe it wasn’t deep enough?”

“When I got bit,” Dean explained. “It only took a little nip to the skin really. It’s probably not all the way through his system yet. Which means, we’re gonna have to cuff him until we know he won’t go all fanged crazy on us.”

Jack moved without hesitation, to Clark’s side. He stared down at the boy, taking in every inch of his pale skin. Every crevice and crack. Everything that made him beautifully human. Clark’s skin felt hot against Jack’s hand when the Nephilim placed it upon his arm.

“Jack…” Sam warned.

Jack had been getting a lot of warnings lately.

“I want to help.” Jack practically growled, causing the brothers to stare at him in slight shock, and then he composed himself upon realizing what he’d done.

Sam waited, nodding towards Clark once the Nephilim had calmed down a bit more. Dean stared intently at the whole process. Jack’s voice had grown deeper, changed when he’d spoken moments earlier. It was as though something primal, something other, had taken over him.

Jack’s eyes went amber and his powers moved through Clark like water. Clark groaned ever so slightly, eliciting another pull in Jack’s gut that he chose to ignore, and his eyelids fluttered after the whole ordeal was done.

Jack let out a deep sigh and stumbled ever so slightly into the guardrail next to him.

“I healed the vampire blood,” Jack explained. “But I don’t think I’m strong enough to heal him entirely. I’m sorry I just…do not feel good again all of a sudden.”

Sam immediately moved from where he stood, assisting Jack in standing back upright entirely. Dean watched the two of them, specifically Jack. The Nephilim’s skin looked flushed, but not by fever. The longer he stared at Clark, the larger his pupils grew. He shifted as though uncomfortable enough to leave, but still longing to be in the room.

It had to be witchcraft. Dean knew there was no other explanation.

But why was it only affecting him and seemingly not Sam? And why the two angels? What would a witch have to gain from targeting them, if it were even a witch at all?

He determined he’d discuss it with Sam once they had a moment alone, but for the time being, he grabbed a pair of cuffs and attached Clark’s right hand to the bed.

Just in case.

***

Hours passed and Dean was no closer to an answer he craved.

There were love spells. There were sickness spells. Hell, there were get rich quick spells and age reversing spells. Not that a witch would have any reason to put those on a hunter, and Dean had yet to see any side effects that would lead him to believe it had happened.

Most importantly, none of the spells had the full array of side effects Dean had experienced earlier in the Impala.

Sure, a witch could apparently make a man pop a boner if she wanted to, but it had nothing to do with scent and it was rare that that was a long-term goal. They usually killed their victims almost immediately after putting a love spell on them. That, and he had yet to find any hex bags. He’d torn his room and car apart looking for the damn things and not a single one had turned up.

He’d scoured the Men of Letters archive on unusual oils and scents. Nothing showed up that was quite like what he had found on the tissue in the car. Besides, witches tended to use physical objects rather than derivatives of anything.

So, it left him with a big giant nothing.

Dean sighed, closing the book loudly with a thud that echoed through the library. He thought back to the recent cases he and Sam had undertook in the past week or so. Two ghouls. Three wraiths. One werewolf.

No witches or warlocks. No vendettas. It made no sense.

Dean shook his head. There was no other explanation. There couldn’t be. He wasn’t…

Well, maybe he was a little, but nobody else would ever know that.

It wasn’t like Dean had never thought about it. The feeling of Castiel’s beard scraping across his lips. His cheek. His thighs while certain things unmentionable in mixed company were done to him. But he’d pushed those thoughts so far down over the years, he was sure a man ten feet in the ground couldn’t even find them.

Dean swallowed hard, pursing his lips, and shifting in his seat.

Dean’s flannel suddenly felt heavy on his body. His skin felt heated. The air felt supercharged, like it had before in the car. The smell had returned. It smelled exactly like it had ten years ago, when Dean had stepped out of a dingy motel room into the misty wet night air, with his clothes half hanging off his body and limping in a satisfied manner. A piece of a memory he hadn’t even noticed at the time.

The slight burn from another man’s stubble had chafed his thighs as he’d walked.

Dean shook his head, opening his eyes again, and breathing heavily. His heart pounded and his throat was starting to constrict and go dry. A panic attack was on the verge of happening. It wasn’t unusual for him to have these thoughts occasionally. To analyze how wrong, it made him, as a hunter, as a man, and especially if his dad had ever found out. To figure out exactly how long he’d felt this way. How dirty he felt every time after it happened, despite the rush and feeling of contentment while it was commencing.

How right it felt, and how well the title fit him, even though he couldn’t speak it aloud and would run to a woman the next time, just to make sure. Just to get himself back on the right track. Just to keep up the façade.

No, it had to be witchcraft. He’d known Castiel for over ten years. Never once had he thought about crossing that line. A line that didn’t exist, as far as Dean was concerned.

Except for the times when a waitress stared at the angel for too long. Or when he’d say something unbelievably naïve or funny and Dean couldn’t help but laugh and give in to the rush of happiness that would flood through him. The times when Dean felt lonely and just wanted a companion, an ear, other than Sam’s, to bend.

The times Castiel had believed in him and never wavered in that belief.

The smell grew stronger and Dean leaned over the nearby wastebasket to see another tissue was half buried under a few empty granola bar wrappers. He moved the wrappers with the back of his hand, biting his lip when he released more of the earthy rain scent and stared at the same oily substance as before on the tissue.

“Dean,” Sam’s voice cut through his thoughts and Dean jumped back into his seat, sitting up straight and adjusting himself accordingly where Sam couldn’t see.

“I wasn’t,” Dean stammered. “I didn’t uh…”

“Whatever you were or were not doing,” Sam held his hands up in defense. “I just came to tell you that Jack is back asleep. The Clark kid is still out cold. Cas is back in his room, as far as I can tell.”

“Cas is back?” Dean asked, feeling the strong desire to get up from his seat, march down the hall, and ask if he’d been “angel-whammied” somehow or worse and if Castiel could fix it.

Overshadowed by a desire to pull Castiel to him and never let him go.

Instead, he stayed put, trying his best to ignore the look Sam was giving him.

“Hey, you uh,” Dean asked as Sam was turning to leave. “Have you felt weird lately?”

“No more than usual,” Sam fit a joke into his statement. It wasn’t like hunters ever felt entirely normal, well, or rested. “Why? Have you?”

Dean thought back to the car. No, he couldn’t bring those thoughts to light. Not even if it was monster related. He’d find a different way to handle this.

Even if it mentally killed him in the process.

“No more than usual,” Dean gave Sam one of his signature smiles. “Just checking, ya know.”

“Right,” Sam nodded, still concerned, and confused. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite.” Dean remarked, trying his best to keep a clear mind, even though the scent of whatever was on all these tissues he was finding was clearly messing with his head. It seemed like forever that it took Sam to leave the room and the elder Winchester groaned upon standing, and looked around before half limping, and half shuffling to his room in an attempt to hide what was happening down south.

No matter what had caused it, there wasn’t anything some Busty Asian Beauties couldn’t solve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review!  
> Dean’s just having a tough time, isn’t he? I promise everything will come to light soon, but I do enjoy torturing this boy. There will be some Kline/Barker bonding as well :) I promise. All good things come to those who wait.   
> See y’all again real soon!


	6. Six

“So, your brother hasn’t been home in a week?” Sam asked the witness, scribbling down everything she had already said in his notepad.

Dean was trying to focus, but his mind was very much elsewhere. The scent of sulfur had permeated his nostrils the moment they’d stepped foot in the victim’s room. Demons. Definitely something Dean was in the mood for.

_“I’ll tell you what else you’re in the mood for, Winchester.”_

Dean willed his brain to shut up.

“No,” the victim’s sister sighed and crossed her arms tighter. “No note, no phone calls. We put out a missing person’s report with the police department. No hits.”

“Thank you,” Sam nodded. “We’ll be in touch if we find anything.”

Sam handed the woman their card and he motioned for Dean to follow him. The pair walked away from the home with the nicely manicured lawn and got back into the Impala. Dean sighed, shifting in his seat, and rubbing at his eyes.

He tried hard not to think about what he’d found between his and Sam’s seat the other day.

“Demons,” Dean mentioned.

“I’m surprised you picked up on that based on how hard you were zoning out the whole time,” Sam sighed, and Dean started up the car. “Honestly, Dean. What’s been up with you lately?”

“I could ask the same thing to you,” Dean gave Sam a look. “And to Cas too, for that matter, but I haven’t.”

Sam swallowed hard, barely looking Dean in the eye as he spoke. He had promised Castiel he’d keep his little secret, and though he had kept his word, it had been growing increasingly harder. Every moment Dean was near the angel, he sniffed the air, smelling something Sam couldn’t pick up on. Sam had continued to hide Castiel’s used tissues, covered in what the angel had explained was wing oil, and to try and send and keep Dean away from the bunker as much as possible until the heat cycle was over.

Sam feared it was never going to be over at this point.

“Yeah,” Dean scoffed and pulled away from the curb. “That’s what I thought.”

Sam determined it was going to be a long night.

***

The stack of dollar bills in Dean’s pocket weighed heavy.

Girls twisted around the poles, spinning, and shaking everything they had in skimpy little outfits, and normally, Dean would have been filled with glee.

In fact, that was the point behind the whole escapade, which he had somehow convinced Sam to come along. To forget.

It wasn’t working.

“I still can’t believe you talked me into this!” Sam yelled over the music and, begrudgingly, sipped his beer that Dean had paid for in an attempt to get him to stay. Sam had thrown a few dollars at a few girls, just to be nice, but Dean knew his younger brother’s heart wasn’t in it.

Dean’s heart wasn’t in it either, but he’d never tell Sam that.

“You can leave anytime!” Dean called back, leaning back in his chair, and raising his arms. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “That requires me walking back to the motel since you’ll insist on having the car. Besides Dean, we’re supposed to be hunting for demons, remember?”

“I’m working on it,” Dean side eyed the chick in the red white and blue bikini. Star tassels hung from her boobs.

“The vic was last seen here before he went black eyes,” Dean explained. “I figured we’d start here.”

“So, you could ogle girls.” Sam finished, giving him a look.

“ _So, I could fix what’s been wrong with me lately.”_

The truth weighed heavy on Dean’s conscience. The longer Sam looked at him, the more Dean’s stomach flipped. Sure, these girls were nice looking, but so was the guy with the five-o clock shadow hidden in the corner nursing half a beer. The barback was smoking, with her double D breasts and bleach blonde hair, but so was her assistant with his long wavy hair and killer white toothed smile.

Then there was the whole matter of Dean randomly popping a boner every time Castiel had been in his thoughts lately.

“So, I could solve this case,” Dean retorted. “Now shut up and make it rain for a bit why don’t you?”

Sam rolled his eyes again and got into the zone, pretending to be just another onlooker in the crowd, when in reality his trained eyes were searching the room for anything unusual. Meanwhile, Dean had caught the eye of a black-haired beauty, bussing tables, and serving drinks about halfway across the club. She was wearing a skimpy tight black bikini top with jean booty shorts and had winked and smiled at him at least twice.

Jackpot.

“I think I found my information source.” Dean stood from the chair and begun to walk over to her. Sam kept his comments to himself.

“Well hey there,” Dean smirked upon reaching the woman’s side. “I was hoping to see that smile a little more up close and personal if you know what I mean?”

Dean flashed an extra lot of money and the waitress smirked and motioned for him to follow her to the back rooms.

“ _Still got it.”_ Dean thought to himself.

When the pair reached the furthest private room down the long hallway, Dean plopped himself down in the chair and smiled up at the waitress, who immediately grabbed the back of it with both her hands and leaned in close to his face.

She gently teased him with how close her lips were to his.

Dean hoped to God he wasn’t pitching a tent. It had been so damn long since he’d felt anybody else’s touch, it was highly likely. Suddenly, he filled his mind with seemingly normal things to keep the urge at bay. Baseball. That time he’d walked in on Bobby naked getting out of the shower.

Okay, maybe not that normal.

“What’s your name, sport?” the woman drawled, sitting in Dean’s lap, and nibbling on his ear. They weren’t supposed to touch, but at the moment, Dean could care less.

“Dean.” He practically whined. It was most likely going to cost him for using his real name, but he didn’t care. It felt so nice. “Yours?”

“Cass.”

Images flooded through his mind of Castiel, standing before him, doing the same things. Sucking on his neck and earlobe with that sinful tongue and those sultry lips. Whispering sweet nothings into Dean’s ear as his fingers fiddled with the button on the hunter’s pants, and eventually dropped them. Castiel’s tongue making its way down south, circling around the tip of his cock and taking it all in his mouth in one go.

Dean’s breathing became heavy. The room became heavy. He shot up from his seat and pushed past the girl, running out the side door to the club and into the cool night air.

His breath came out in a fog. Dean looked up towards the sky and panted, rubbing the back of his head and neck with both his hands.

No, it wasn’t right.

So why did it feel so right? Thinking those things.

“Dean?!” he heard Sam call out and suddenly Dean found that he wasn’t alone in the alleyway.

The girl he’d taken to the room was there, along with the bartender and her assistant. All three of them surrounded Dean, who carefully pulled Ruby’s knife from his belt.

“Christo!” Sam yelled out from down the alley and the trio jerked their heads, growling as their eyes turned black.

A fourth figure appeared from the darkness, yowling as he came at Dean, and Dean caught both his wrists before either of them could contact one another. Dean tossed the man aside, leading the others to turn their sights on Sam, who stood ready for their attack and motioned for them to bring it on.

“You like her name?” the demon taunted and motioned towards the girl Dean had taken in the back. The man before him was the missing victim they’d been searching for, possessed by otherworldly scum. He had clearly been for a long time.

Dean knew there had to be nothing left of the original him. A sad fact they’d have to tell his sister when this was all over.

“I figured you would,” the demon cracked its neck and readjusted itself for the fight.

“Bears the same one as that little bitch bottom of yours.”

Dean snarled and launched himself at the demon, who quickly dodged his advances and sent Dean hurtling into the side of the dumpster nearby.

“I can smell his claim on you,” the demon gave a deep inhale. “Oh, that little innocent winged freak, a piece of his grace still inside of you after so many years. It’s not often an angel picks a human for that special time of the month, ya know. You should feel honored.”

Dean looked at the demon, confused as all get out, and grunted when it kicked him down to his knees.

“Ain’t so Righteous anymore huh? Now that you’ve corrupted one of Heaven’s finest in such a way?”

Dean groaned as he looked up at the demon, who was poised and ready to kick again, but suddenly cried out and sparked as Sam shoved an angel blade through his gut. The demon fell to the ground in a heap. The other demons having met the same fate.

Dean’s head hurt, but mostly it spun.

What the hell was the demon talking about?

“Dean,” Sam helped him to his feet. “You good? Let’s get out of here.”

Dean nodded, having more questions than answers at the moment, but he stumbled out of the alley, leaning on Sam, and the pair walked off into the night towards the awaiting Impala.

***

Jack heard the black-haired boy stir and immediately got up from where he’d been sitting for the past twenty-four hours. He’d already done two more healing attempts, both times keeping the boy’s fever at an acceptable level, but never fully being able to free him from it.

His heat cycle was affecting more than his emotions, it seemed.

The black-haired boy, Jack now remembered his name to be Clark, cracked open his eyes and Jack felt his heart flutter at the sight of the way his baby blues danced behind his long eyelashes. Clark’s clothes were slightly torn, and his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, but Jack couldn’t help but still stare.

Jack was entranced and the feeling only grew stronger when Clark looked him in the eyes.

“Stoner alert,” Clark pointed at Jack with recognition. “It’s you. How ya been?”

“I have been okay,” Jack nodded. “You have not.”

“You got me,” Clark shrugged and upon feeling his arm was restricted he looked over to the see the cuffs and bit his lip. “Kinky.”

Jack cocked his head, feeling a tug at his gut, same as before.

“At least buy me dinner first.” Clark smirked and Jack felt a twinge of embarrassment fill him.

“Dean wanted to make sure you weren’t going to turn into a vampire,” Jack explained, but then quickly realized that Clark probably didn’t know or need to know what he was talking about. “Oh…what I mean is…”

“It’s fine,” Clark sighed. “I know what you’re talking about. I know all about that stuff now.”

“You do?” Jack asked, feeling half hopeful and half saddened that Clark was suddenly as aware as he was about all the bad things in the world.

Something deep inside Jack wanted Clark to never experience another bad thing again in his life and for Jack to make sure of that.

“My mom and I we…started hunting,” Clark explained, and he swallowed a hard lump forming in his throat. His eyes threatened to fill with tears, but he kept it at bay.

“She died a few months ago. Got her throat ripped out.”

“I am very sorry to hear that,” Jack said, with all sincerity. He felt this overwhelming need to hold the boy before him but kept it at bay. “My mother is in Heaven too. It’s been longer than that though.”

Clark gave Jack a thoughtful look, one that lasted for far longer than he’d normally have openly given another guy. He felt his throat starting to go dry. It was no secret he’d looked both ways ever since he was about fourteen, but he’d never told anyone. Not even his mother. Another secret she’d never know now.

“Castiel, that’s one of my dads, he has ordered Chinese food,” Jack quickly changed the subject. “I will bring some to you. I don’t know what you like, but you must be hungry.”

At that, Clarks’ stomach started to growl. It had been a long time since he’d last eaten.

“I can fix that.” Jack nodded and quickly made his way to the door.

Something in his words made Clark believe him. It made Clark think he could believe any word the guy said. He shook his thoughts away and nodded, nestling back into the pillows upon realizing how much his body truly still hurt from the hunt and the attack.

Clark whined as he tried to move his leg. It appeared as though he wouldn’t be walking again anytime soon. Jack came back in the door with a few white cartons of food, a new ice-cold water bottle, and a giddy smile upon his face.

Clark determined maybe it wouldn’t be so bad being stuck after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review!  
> I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter as much as I did! I had an absolute blast writing it. There will be more Clark/Jack moments coming up soon and, as always, you know I cannot leave you guys hanging much longer with the Destiel. It’s just so much fun to torture Dean.  
> See you guys in the next chapter real soon!


	7. Seven

Dean hadn’t found a single word to say to Sam since the incident behind the strip club.

Once the brothers had reached the motel of the night, slammed the door shut, and tried to determine how they were going to tell the victim's family about the incident, they settled in for the evening.

Dean didn’t settle.

He found his thoughts racing, trying to reach a finish line that didn’t exist. None of the demon’s ramblings had really made sense. Then again, rarely did monsters wish to do more than torture hunters mentally in order to keep on living.

So why wouldn’t his brain let it go?

“I’m gonna grab some food,” Sam said, rather quietly, as he pulled on a jacket and headed towards the motel door. “Any requests?”

“The greasiest burger one could ever lay eyes on.” Dean replied, not meeting Sam’s eyes, and still staring forward at the wall.

Sam debated saying something, but the thought of betraying Castiel’s trust still didn’t sit right with him. It was blaringly obvious, as the demon from earlier had so graciously pointed out, and Sam had pretended he wasn’t listening from the other end of the alley. His older brother wasn’t stupid. Dean would eventually put two and two together and figure it out.

For right now though, Sam would get him a burger and play the innocent bystander.

“Will do.” Sam nodded and left the room.

It was suddenly louder than ever before in the room. Dean replayed the scenario in his head several times. The way the demon had leered at him, observing the confusion on his face when he’d mentioned Castiel.

_“Bears the same one as that little bitch bottom of yours.”_

Dean shook his head, trying to clear away any lingering impure thoughts. Thoughts of Castiel laid out on a bed before him. Dean undressing him with his eyes, then undressing him with his hands. His lips meeting the angel’s. His lips meeting other places.

Dean stood up from the bed abruptly and started pacing. His chest was on fire now, feeling as though something was vibrating deep down inside of him. It felt as though a deep feeling of loneliness and longing crawled out of his gut and up his throat. As though the feeling had a sentient body.

He hadn’t felt this intensity of emotions since he was young, positive ones that is.

Dean clutched his chest, feeling his heartbeat fast and heavy, and feeling as though he could cry or scream or possibly both. The feeling was overwhelming. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes, and clenching his teeth.

The feeling waned as quickly as it waxed.

Dean opened his eyes and looked around, as though some invisible force had suddenly snapped its fingers and made things slow down for a little bit. The hunter breathed out a deep sigh and stood back up straight, feeling anxious about the whole deal and slightly dizzy. He laid down, closed his eyes again, and waited for Sam to come back.

They had a lot to discuss.

***

Sam sighed once he crawled back into the driver’s seat of the Impala and placed the fast-food bags on the bench seat beside him. The younger Winchester ran a hand through his hair and placed both hands on the steering wheel after. He waited a moment and then whispered under his breath.

_“Cas, I think Dean knows. I think I may have to tell him something. Just…tell me what to do here?”_

Sam let the prayer linger for a few moments, thinking about the implications of what it meant and the situation Castiel had unwillingly placed him in. He had danced around his brother and the angel for years, observing the way they juggled words and fumbled movements.

It was the same way Sam had danced around Jess for months before he’d dared ask her out.

Only it had been years and Dean was so stunted emotionally, Sam swore one day he’d have to grab Dean by the collar and shake him relentlessly until the message got through to him.

John Winchester had done a number on both of them, that was for sure, but Dean had taken the brunt of it. Sam had managed to break free. To find out some of who he was outside of his family. Dean had never gotten that chance.

“I am sorry to put you in such a position, Sam.” Castiel suddenly popped up in the backseat of the car and Sam jumped, grabbing at his heart, and letting out a deep exhale with wide eyes.

“Jesus, Cas…” Sam shook his head.

“My apologies,” Castiel nodded.

“No,” Sam waved him off. “Don’t apologize, Cas. You’ve done enough of that over the years.”

“I feel as though this whole thing has put a small strain on our friendship,” Castiel said. “I never intended for that. I was simply trying to keep both of your best interests and safety in mind.”

Castiel sat rigidly in the backseat. The entire backside of his trench coat was oily, and it ached something awful. Even just being in the Impala made Castiel’s emotions go haywire. The smell of Dean was everywhere. The thoughts of many a drive with the two Winchesters passed through Castiel’s mind. He clenched his jaw, shifting in the seat, and closed his eyes for a moment.

“You’re in pain Cas,” Sam observed. “You can’t hide this forever. Neither can I. Dean already suspects I know something and I’m having to act like I don’t.”

Castiel sighed, wanting to say something else in defense of keeping the secret, but the words wouldn’t come.

“You don’t have to be afraid of Dean,” Sam commented, and the words struck Castiel hard. “He cares about you. I dare to say he loves you.”

Castiel bashfully looked over at the younger Winchester.

“I haven’t seen a love like this since my parents. Since me and Jess.” Sam concluded. “It’s worth every admission of truth.”

Castiel nodded, shifting again, and feeling as though a breakthrough had just come. Sam was right. A bond that could not be severed, not even by death, had been created between Dean Winchester and Castiel when he’d risen out of Hell with the hunter in his grip. He’d screamed it to all creatures that could hear that Dean Winchester was saved that day.

“You are correct, Sam,” Castiel concluded. “You may tell Dean everything. I’m sure you have already guessed Jack is struggling from the same condition as I am, but with less symptoms being half human. I must remain isolated like him at this time in case of other angels. In fact, it was dangerous for me to even leave for this interaction, but I did not wish to ignore your prayer.”

“It’s alright Cas,” Sam replied. “I’ll break the ice. Just, promise me you’ll come clean when we get back to the bunker. For both of your sakes.”

“I promise, Sam.” Castiel nodded and flew away as quickly as he’d came.

Sam put the car into drive and made his way back to the motel room. He felt lighter somehow, as though some awful secret had been lifted from his shoulders.

The door to the motel room swung open via Sam’s hip and he pocketed the room key, taking notice of Dean cracking open one eye and slowly, blearily sitting up in bed.

“We need to talk Dean,” Sam set down the food and looked his brother in the eyes.

Dean’s concern grew the more silence that filled the air.

“It’s about Cas.”

***

Clark was dreaming about the day his mother died.

They’d been doing research for months before taking an actual case. It was a week after Dean had told the boy’s mother about the supernatural world that Clark and she both had decided they were going to dive heard first into it.

His mother already had the weapons. Clark had the drive to do something other than the status quo. He’d had that since early teen-hood. It was as though the universe had handed them their intended futures on a silver platter.

That silver platter had burned them in the end, like the material to a werewolf’s skin.

He could still picture the day. The woods had been eerily quiet. The sun had been shining through jagged branches. The ground beneath them was wet and sinking below their boots.

The smell of copper blood reeked in the air as the monster tore out the tendons and flesh of Clark’s mother’s throat right before his eyes and Clark had just stood there, baffled, and unable to move or do anything to stop it.

It was his greatest regret. Him freezing that day and not kicking into action.

It had gotten the most important person in his life killed and he’d never even got a chance to apologize to her for all the years he felt he’d lacked in making her feel important.

Clark’s eyes shot open the moment his brain replayed his mother’s untimely death and he felt as though all the sweat on his body was sticking to him. He was still in the medical bay of the weird looking place he’d stumbled upon. The bed was still comfortable. He was still warm and safe, despite still feeling and being sick from his wound.

He looked over to see Jack sitting in a chair, patiently staring at the wall nearby, and the boy turned his head when Clark stared at him.

“You’re still here.” Clark said.

“It’s strange,” Jack carefully thought about his words. Clark had noticed the way he talked was a bit robotic, but thoughtful. As though every word had an impact and Jack wanted it to make a good one.

“I feel the innate need to be near you. I apologize if this makes you uncomfortable. I just…need to know that you’re okay.”

Clark blinked a few times, thinking about what the Nephilim had just said. It was peculiar, feeling as though he was needed by someone. After years of pushing people away, acting like a loner, and wanting nothing to do with most of his peers or his family, it was nice.

The feeling was nice. Plain and simple.

Clark smiled, looking down slightly shyly, and leaned back in his bed.

He let the warmth envelop him once more and this time, no bad dreams came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review!  
> Apologies for the long hiatus guys, school has been a thing and a half. I haven’t really had a spare minute in the past few weeks to type anything until now. I do hope everyone enjoys this chapter (we’re getting closer to a reveal) and the next one will hopefully come sooner rather than later!  
> See y’all then!


	8. Eight

“So,” Dean had never felt more confused in his entire life. “Walk me through this again, Cas is in a what now?”

Sam had proceeded to walk into the motel room with a rather serious look on his face moments earlier than Dean’s question and reveal a bit of information that Dean found to be rather, well almost, in their line of work anything was possible, unbelievable.

“It’s what he and the lore that I did somehow manage to find consider a type of mating cycle,” Sam explained a second time as Dean stared, dumbfounded, at his brother. “This is the first time he’s experienced physical symptoms, it’s apparently mainly a very emotional thing.”

“So, what dude just needs to bone?” Dean watched Sam cringe at his crass statement, and his brother sighed.

“It’s a little more involved than that,” Sam started. “But yes, basically that’s a part of the physical symptoms that he wasn’t expecting.”

“Well shit Sammy why didn’t he say anything,” Dean replied. “Could have found the guy a nice lady of the night.”

Dean almost choked on his own words. Not that Sam needed to know, and Dean swore up and down he would never tell him, but the thought of that happening made Dean fill with the slightest bit of nauseous rage.

Maybe a little more than slight.

“It’s not that simple.” Sam said.

“Nothing ever is with us.” Dean gave Sam a small thin smile.

“Every angel gives off a scent apparently,” Sam mentioned, and Dean felt his stomach jump. “It secretes from the oil in their wings. One only their true intended mate can smell.”

It explained everything. It explained the urges for inappropriate actions every time Dean had been around the tissues being left everywhere lately. Why everything smelled like fresh rain after Castiel had been in a room prior to Dean. Dean loved the smell of fresh rain. It was his favorite. It came even before the old leather scent of the Impala and that was saying something.

Of course, Castiel’s wacked out angel hormones would pick up on such a detail.

“So, what you’re saying that I-.” Dean pointed at himself, feeling a surge of a range of emotions.

“Well you have been acting a little off lately.” Sam shrugged. “Plus, you said it, not me.”

Dean realized the significance of what he had just admitted. Sam was staring at him in that way that shell shocked people did. As though you had a diseased plastered all over your skin and if they got too close, they’d catch it.

The look softened almost immediately, and Sam cleared his throat.

“Look Dean,” Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve kind of always…sensed something when you two are in a room together. I never wanted to say anything-.”

“Yeah well good,” Dean snapped, and Sam jumped back ever so slightly. “Because nothing is going to come of this alright! This is just too many levels of weird.”

Sam stared at Dean for a moment, studying his posture. All his years of pretending to be FBI had given Sam a few observation skills. Dean’s shoulders were rigid. His breathing was slightly short. His pupils were blown wide. He was rubbing his fingers on one of his hands against his palm.

He’d known Dean his entire life. Sam knew all his tics, his behaviors. His older brother wasn’t mad. He was afraid.

“There’s some truth to this, isn’t there?” Sam asked, calmly and quietly.

He waited for Dean to blow up. To freak out on him and storm off, drive off in the Impala and head to the nearest bar to drown out the conversation in liquid memory loss and then bring some random chick back to the motel room or take her in the backseat of the car if Sam wouldn’t let him in.

It was a rare time that Dean broke his pattern, and instead he clenched his hands for a moment and then looked down and away from Sam’s eyes. It was rare for his brother to show shame.

“How long have you known…” Dean basically whispered.

“Dean…” Sam started.

“How long have you known?” Dean repeated, louder this time.

“Since you were eighteen,” Sam admitted. “I saw you, down an alleyway outside whatever motel we were staying at that time. You were hiding from dad. I know you were because you turned your head when I accidentally kicked the dumpster, pushed the other guy away from you like he had the plague, and practically sprinted back to the room past me. You were so scared you never even saw me, and I pretended I had gone out to the vending machine. I remember that night like it was yesterday, Dean.”

“You never said anything,” Dean replied. “To dad. To me. To anyone?”

“It wasn’t my place,” Sam shook his head. “Coming out isn’t easy. I can imagine it really isn’t in our line of work. I wasn’t going to add another ounce of fear to your already too long laundry list.”

“You don’t…care?” Dean asked, rather timidly.

It was weird for Sam, seeing his brother this way.

“Shit Dean,” Sam threw his hands up in the air. “I banged a demon for years! I experimented in college like the rest of ‘em do. If you’re questioning it, you gotta figure that shit out somehow!”

Dean swallowed hard.

“Besides,” Sam said. “You’re my brother and I love you. There isn’t a damn thing in this world that’s going to change my mind on that.”

Sam felt the wind knocked out of him when Dean approached him and patted him on the back in a tight hug. Sam embraced his older brother just as securely, letting Dean work through any emotions he had left over.

When they separated Dean eventually broke into a sideways smirk.

“So, do you uh…?” Dean drew out the last word.

“One guy,” Sam held up a finger. “I seem to have a preference for girls, but it was very nice while it lasted.”

“Right.” Dean concluded and nodded, before sitting back down on the edge one of the motel beds. A few moments of silence passed between them as Sam unpacked the food and tossed Dean his burger.

“What are you gonna do about Cas?” Sam asked.

Dean was about halfway into his bite when he stopped and met Sam’s eyes. He finished swallowing and sighed.

It should have been an easy answer. Dean had known how he’d felt about the angel for years now. He had had inklings of Castiel’s feelings, but nothing had ever been confirmed. Dean assumed it was because Castiel knew better than to spring uncomfortable subjects on the hunter, ever. At least, now that everything was out in the open with half of his family, Dean hoped that was the case and not the alternative of him reading things wrong.

“I want to help him,” Dean said. “But I don’t know how to go about that.”

“How about we get back the bunker first,” Sam said. “I think he can explain this whole thing better than I can.”

***

Clark felt nauseous, but he ate anyway. Giving in to Jack’s extremely caring nature was hard after months of being on his own, but Clark felt calm in his presence. There was something about the strange boy that felt like home.

Clark was also terrified at that thought, he barely knew the guy, but he chose to ignore it for now.

“How are you feeling?” Jack asked.

Before he could answer, Clark felt his stomach immediately reject everything he had just given it and he started coughing and gagging. Without missing a beat, Jack grabbed a nearby trash can and placed it under Clark as he vomited up his dinner.

The boy felt Jack’s fingers carding through his long hair and pushing it back away from his face. Clark looked over with glassy eyes, staring into Jack’s. The Nephilim felt his grace jump, fighting against every urge to throw his entire body into Clark’s

“I hope this is okay,” Jack said in his serious slow tone. “The touching of your hair, that is.”

Clark shivered, giving a little choking sound at the end when it was nothing more than bile coming up and eventually, he stopped heaving altogether and tiredly leaned back against the pillow behind him.

“It’s fine,” Clark’s voice came out hoarse and he swallowed hard. His throat hurt so badly.

He watched as Jack reached his hand up towards his throat, holding it before his chin, and a white-orange light came out from it. Jack closed his eyes and concentrated, feeling a tiny bit of his grace break free and slam through the power into Clark. Clark felt it too, strong, and warm, and he blinked hard a few times before fully opening his eyes again.

The strange feeling from before now grew stronger in Jack. Clark felt as though he was being wrapped in a hug. His heart pounded. Jack’s breathing was labored. His eyes flew open.

Clark was healed, but Jack was slowly starting to figure out what he’d just done.

“Forgive me,” Jack stammered and ran from the room, shutting the medical bay’s door hard behind him.

“Jack! Wait!” Clark called out, but his cries fell on deaf ears.

Clark realized he hadn’t felt this alive since he was a kid.

That left him with only one question. What was Jack and what had he just done to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review!  
> I wanted to get this chapter out to y’all since it’s been a hot minute and I am sorry for that. Things are ramping up with school so updates may be more infrequent, but I promise I have not given up on this or any of my stories! With that being said, I hope everyone enjoyed this one, and I will see you in the next!  
> Oh, and Happy Halloween fellow Americans ;)


	9. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other OCs of mine are mentioned (unnamed boy and Jamie Bower) in this chapter. No need to know them beforehand. Just adding backstory to Dean's life.

It had taken all of Dean’s might and will to stay centered in the car on the ride home to the bunker.

He supposed he couldn’t exactly use the word “straight” anymore regarding himself.

It was strange, after his confession, nothing had changed. Sam still sat shotgun, reading over papers and news articles when he wasn’t busy talking to Dean. The Impala’s tires still rumbled when they contacted the asphalt. The sun had still risen. The clouds had still formed. There was still a dent in the guardrail near the Lebanon exit when Dean took it.

Yet, for Dean, the world somehow felt a little lighter than before.

Sam had asked him the usual questions of when he’d figured it all out (Dean’s answer: age fifteen), if he was to expect any guys at the bunker as well (Dean’s answer: he wasn’t ready for that yet), and what Sam could do to help him through the rest of the process (Dean’s answer: keep watch over his six and they were good).

It was comforting, knowing someone hadn’t reacted the way Dean had always expected. Over the years they’d found the hunter community to be far more diverse and accepting than when the boys had first entered it. There had been Charlie Bradbury, raging lesbian nerd extraordinaire. Jesse and Cesar, two gay hunters hellbent on revenge fulfillment, and now that they had, retired to New Mexico running a dude ranch. Hell, those two were married. Dean had worked with several ragtag hunters that swung all kinds of ways over the years and never batted an eye.

There had always been a yearning for questions though. A desire to ask them how they’d done it. How they’d managed to be so unabashedly themselves and not be driven out of dodge by other hunters.

Some went by the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy, others just let it all hang out, metaphorically.

It had given Dean some hope for himself in the long run. Now, he supposed, he didn’t have to worry too much.

He’d told Sam everything. It had felt good to spill his guts. He told him about the guy he saw him with that night when he was eighteen. He told Sam about a man named Jamie Bower from a little town called Arrowsmith and how that had, unfortunately, gone up in smoke and heated spoons. He told his brother about Lee, about Benny, and about so many others who had caught his eye, but he’d never done anything with.

He saved Castiel for last.

It was the longest story, having not felt that way since Jamie and terrified about it, Dean hadn’t acted on any feelings. He’d stayed repressed. A lot was going on, he hadn’t had the time to consider how he’d felt. He knew it though, from the start of Castiel starting to help them, and not being like other angels. He knew he’d felt more than just initial attraction.

“Believe me,” Sam gave his brother a knowing smile as they passed through the last remnants of town on their way to the bunker. “Cas knows. He’s known for a long time.”

It made Dean’s stomach jump, at the thought of Castiel loving him. Dean had been informed of his worth his whole life, or rather lack thereof, by almost every living breathing monster, human, and hunter he’d come across. His own father had, unknowingly, beaten it into both Winchester brothers. It didn’t seem possible that after all these years, after all the abuse he’d sent his way, and Dean was aware of it, that Castiel could ever love him.

The apologies lingered on the tip of his tongue and danced in his head as Dean pulled the Impala into the bunker’s secret garage. The doors shut tightly with a thud behind them. Sealed in. There was no turning back now. No running from what he’d admitted or was going to admit once he got beyond those doors.

He didn’t have to wait long. Castiel stood at the garage door entrance, looking uncomfortable and painful as all get out, but Sam took the first steps his way, putting some room between him and Dean until both could find their words.

“Jack is of the same caliber as me,” Castiel mentioned to Sam. “I suspect he will have to be kept from the Clark boy. There have been…developments in my absence.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Sam nodded and then motioned to Dean as he stepped past Castiel into the entrance of the bunker. “He knows, by the way.”

The angel and the hunter stared at one another for a long time, neither daring to move. Castiel had a wild look in his eyes that Dean knew he was trying to keep under control. Dean was practically suffocated by the fantastic smell in the air. Fresh rain, pouring down in a forest, that was what it smelled like.

“I must go,” Castiel stammered and turned quickly to leave.

“Cas,” Dean’s voice cracked, and the angel stopped. The hunter cleared his throat. “Cas wait. We have to talk.”

The angel still looked terrified, but he stopped walking away. Dean could see the back of his trench coat, drenched in the wing oil Sam had spoken of. The smell of rain only grew stronger the closer Dean got to the angel.

“I can smell you, ya know,” Dean commented, licking his lips, and rubbing the back of his neck. “I think we both know what that means.”

“Dean,” Castiel warned with a sigh. “You don’t know what this entails. I would never ask anything of you during this time.”

“What if I said I wanted to help?” Dean replied and Castiel bit his lip before closing his mouth again.

“You don’t know what that even means in this context,” Castiel grumbled. “Besides, you don’t even like-.”

It was then that Dean let his head open up, he pushed the images Castiel’s way, willing the angel to see them. It was the strangest prayer Dean had ever sent out, but it was definitely one of the most important ones.

Castiel took in the images of young Dean, kissing other strange young men in alleyways. Dean showed him Jamie and him, laughing in a haze filled room in a shitty apartment, then their hands crawling up one another’s shirts as their lips crushed together. He showed him Lee Webb and how they’d had a lot more dreams than just owning bars and karaoke. He showed him what he’d feared would happen had he come out before now.

Finally, he showed the angel himself. The night they met. The moments they’d shared where Dean had wished he could have just killed the space between them, but he’d been too afraid to do so. The laughter, tears, and everything in between. Moments Dean would never take back because it meant less time with Castiel or a world where he’d never existed in Dean’s life, and that would have been a true tragedy.

“I know what I want,” Dean explained, fists still clenched and trembling a little. “I’ve known what I’ve wanted for a long time.”

Castiel’s eyes were blown wide. It was right there in front of him, the key to ending this cycle. The mate he’d been destined for since his creation. Other angels, with less cracks in their foundation, had perhaps found angels to be theirs. Castiel had always fancied himself as a bit of a rebel at heart. It had just taken a few times for the soldier-like façade to crumble.

“Will you let me help you?” Dean asked, no, pleaded. “I want to help you.”

Castiel looked down and away, contemplating the consequences. What if Dean changed his mind? What if this wasn’t really Dean? Where would he find silver in order to test him? Sam had seemed real enough.

“Look,” Dean said. “I need time to mentally prepare as well. Why don’t you let me get settled in and say in, what, like an hour, come find me. Okay?”

Castiel hesitated a moment before nodding and allowing Dean to push past him with his duffle bag in hand. Both the angel and the hunter sniffed the air as they passed by one another. Castiel closed his eyes a moment, allowing the scent to overwhelm him, but not overtake him. If he gave in too much to the animalistic side of himself it could cause harm to Dean.

Dean was reminded of home, on stormy nights when he couldn’t sleep, and he’d watch the raindrops fall lazily down the windowpane.

The two parted ways, both secretly holding out hope that things would end up in their favor that evening.

***

Clark felt better. His fever had basically broken and was low grade at that point. His leg still ached, but he was able to stand and walk around. His hair was a bit knotted and greasy from lack of proper facilities before that moment. He had found a bathroom, lacking a shower though, on the edge of the medical bay and inspected himself in the mirror.

Scars from past hunts before the vampires shone bright white on his face under the fluorescent lighting. His sharp blue eyes looked somewhat grayer as he blinked a few times to adjust his vision. He hadn’t slept like he had the night before in months. His body still ached, and he still had a bruise near his lower jaw from where a vampire had thrown something at him, and he’d barely managed to dodge it.

Clark shook his head and limped out of the bathroom and the medical bay into the nearby hallway. It was dark, but it didn’t feel menacing. He’d never seen a structure quite like it before.

“You okay?”

Clark turned to see a rather tall man with shaggy-ish brown hair walking his way. The man smiled and placed his hands in his pockets. A rather large book rested under one of his arms.

“I was looking for Jack.” Clark explained. “I don’t think I managed to get everybody else’s names before I passed out.”

“Sam,” the man said, referencing himself. “My brother Dean is around here somewhere and so is our other resident angel, Castiel.”

“Angel?” Clark was bewildered.

“Trust me kid,” Sam chuckled. “It’s not harps and haloes. Jack’s in his room, by the way, but I would knock before you go in there. He and Cas are dealing with some delicate issues right now.”

Delicate issues? Clark was confused, but either way he thanked Sam and made his way in the direction of where the younger Winchester brother pointed. Clark hesitated a moment before bringing his hand up to rap on Jack’s door. He thought of the prior events that had transpired earlier that day. The ball of light that had transferred from Jack to him. The feelings that were drifting around inside Clark now.

He swallowed hard as he pushed the door open a crack.

Jack was sitting in a chair near the TV stand, legs up near his chest, and he turned his head slowly when he saw Clark enter just the edge of the room.

“I am sorry for what transpired,” Jack explained. “Castiel warned me this would be intense.”

“Well whatever “this” is,” Clark swallowed and motioned to his thigh. “I’m up and walking again, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Jack nodded.

The silence for a moment was deafening.

“So,” Clark rubbed at the back of his neck. “You mind if I use your shower?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review!  
> All the awkwardness you could ever want in a chapter leading up to two conversations underway in the next chapter! Sorry to leave y’all hanging, what with all the craziness happening right now in the United States and just the world, but I have to log on to class after I publish this. I’m so glad people are still invested in this story and loving it!  
> See y’all soon in the next chapter!


	10. Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Smut. That is all.

The first thing Dean noticed was that Castiel was cold.

The angel had knocked on Dean’s door about an hour after they’d gotten home from the hunt. Sam had been weirdly absent, giving Dean any kind of privacy, he desired for the evening. There was a strange electric feeling in the air, as though Dean was treading on a plane other than an Earthly one.

Dean had been folding his clothes and putting them away when Castiel knocked. The hunter’s stomach had jumped, both in anticipation and anxiety. It had been a long time since he’d felt the “prom night” feeling as he called it. It was also strange, knowing that feeling was out in the open now, with Castiel.

When Dean had had enough time to process what was most likely going to occur in whatever amount of time it took to happen, and had let Castiel in.

The angel had been shivering upon entering and Dean had taken his arm, leading him away from the door and shutting it behind them.

Now, Castiel and Dean lay in Dean’s bed, side by side and closer than they had ever been before. Castiel had shed the trench coat, slung it and his tie and undershirt over a nearby chair, and borrowed one of Dean’s warmest flannels along with a pair of his old sweatpants. The angel still twitched with feverish abandon every once in a while, and this led to Dean, somewhat awkwardly and slowly, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s middle and pulling the angel to his body.

It was an unfamiliar feeling he hadn’t had in a long time, having another man’s body pressed up against his. Castiel smelled so strongly of earthen rain. Dean felt his heart beating quickly. He hesitated again, his nose mere inches from the back of Castiel’s neck. Castiel could feel Dean’s hot breath coming out in gentle puffs through his nose.

“Sorry,” Dean said, breaking the silence that had consumed the room for far too long. “I’m not used to this. I-.”

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice came out soft and gentle. “You don’t have to apologize. You don’t even have to be doing this.”

“I know,” Dean sighed and then allowed his face to press into the back of Castiel’s neck. Dean closed his eyes tight, taking in the smell and remembering the nights he stayed awake in motel rooms. Late nights spent consoling a young Sam from nightmares. Times his father had yelled at him for various failings and he’d tried not to show tears. The comfort it had brought, to take Sam on a walk-through misty fog when they were kids, through the woods with a knife because protection was always necessary.

Forget beating, Dean’s heart started to soar.

“I,” Castiel stammered. “I don’t know how much longer before this becomes unbearable Dean.”

“I know what I agreed to.” Dean watched as Castiel turned to face him. The angel looked so helpless, so small under the covers and wrapped in Dean’s clothes. He was covered in a sheen of sweat and his eyes were slightly glassy.

“Ya still cold?” Dean asked and Castiel nodded.

Dean nodded and helped Castiel get out of bed. He took the angel to the bathroom within his room. The shower pressure was definitely the best in the house in Dean’s personal abode and he intended to show Castiel the truth of that.

Dean turned on the fan to suck up the steam forming from the hot water. The glass door to the shower steamed up and Dean motioned for Castiel to get in. The angel nodded and pulled back the door and climbed under the water.

“Cas,” Dean rolled his eyes. “The…clothes.”

Dean realized this was one of those cinematic moments where the main character has to make a choice that changes things forever. Albeit a small one, but still one of those moments. Dean blew air out of his cheeks and started to remove his articles of clothing one by one until he was down to his boxers. There was no way he was going commando in front of Castiel.

Not yet.

His brain hung on those two words. What he’d agreed to do if the need arose for Castiel.

Dean took another deep breath and made his way into the shower. Castiel stood there, clothes and hair drenched, under the warm stream of water. He turned and looked at Dean, as though he was staring at a wonder of the world. The steam had brought out the scent of Castiel’s wing oil even more, like a bath mist.

Dean licked his lips and bit his bottom one.

“I,” Castiel shrugged. “I wanted to be warm. Sorry about the clothes.”

Dean waited, but eventually his rational thoughts left the room. Castiel’s scent was intoxicating and Dean swore he could feel every pore on his body and shivers wracked him despite the warmth. Dean felt his boxers sticking to his body the more water rained over him.

He took a small step forward towards Castiel. Dean’s hands shook as he lifted them to the angel’s cheeks. He stared into blue eyes, feeling everything all at once. Castiel’s eyes lidded as he watched Dean’s lips grow closer. Dean and Castiel stood on the edge of the water, it trickled down their necks and bodies.

Castiel slowly took the lead on removing his own clothes. His trembling fingers were met by Dean’s arms. Dean blinked a few times before gently pressing his lips to Castiel’s and closing his eyes.

Almost twelve years. Almost twelve years of feelings, of pain, of joy. All of it, wrapped up in one kiss that Dean was taking his bleeding time breathing life into. He nipped at Castiel’s bottom lip, using every trick he knew made his previous lovers go crazy.

“Is this okay?” Dean asked, eyes also lidded and Castiel nodded hurriedly.

Dean continued until the kisses became as feverish as Castiel. The touches became far more frenzied and Dean could feel not only the feeling of happiness surging through him, but the feeling of something else happening too.

“Maybe we should, uh, take this somewhere safer from slippage?” Dean suggested.

Castiel nodded again and the pair slowly made their way from the bathroom, Dean backing Castiel into the edge of the bed and stared heatedly at him. His eyes glanced downward at the growing bulge in the angel’s boxers.

“Also, maybe,” Dean licked his lips again and the thoughts Castiel was having would have stained Heaven in sin.

“I should help you take care of that.”

Dean swallowed hard, knowing the implications of what he had just said. It had been a long time since he’d done such things to a person of his same gender, but he knew much like riding a bike, it would come back naturally.

Dean kissed Castiel again, rubbing his hips slowly, sensually with his hands. Castiel felt Dean’s thumbs hooking on the waistband of his boxers. Dean’s lips ghosted Castiel’s again. Castiel sucked in a breath, whining a little as Dean’s hands traveled further under the garment across his bottom half.

“That feel good?” Dean asked, breathlessly, feeling his entire body tingling and aching just for a piece more than what he had of the angel.

Castiel’s whines were music to Dean’s ears. Dean pushed the angel onto the bed with his own body, kissing him the whole time while he somehow managed to rid him of his boxers as well. Dean groaned as he ground their bodies together, feeling every inch of Castiel’s length growing harder every moment they collided.

“Dean,” Castiel breathlessly squeaked out. “Are you sure?”

Dean nodded, locking lips with Castiel once again and gripping his hips tight as he kissed down Castiel’s chest. Once Dean reached Castiel’s left hip bone, he sunk his teeth ever so slightly into the top of the skin, leaving a mark and then wrapping his lips around Castiel’s cock, like he had imagined over the past few days every time that damn oil crossed his nose.

“Dean!” Castiel cried out, his fingers threading through Dean’s hair and gripping tight. Dean gagged ever so slightly, feeling Castiel’s length take over most of his mouth. Dean closed his eyes for a moment, breathing through his nose, and then popping his lips off before coughing.

“Little warning next time, huh Cas?” Dean swallowed, pulling a stray hair from his mouth in the process.

“My apologies.” Castiel nodded and Dean slowly lowered his head again.

“I’m a bit rusty okay,” Dean gulped. “Just…bear with me.”

Dean moved his head up and down with slow speed to begin. His hand wrapped around the shaft and his other hand gripping the bed tightly and trying to ignore his own problem growing larger by the minute.

Dean tried to remember what he liked. What turned him on and drove him wild. He knew every guy was different, but his frame of reference was slim. He had spent half of his life hiding from these so-called wrong feelings that had been drilled into his mind as wrong for so long.

And now, here he was, gagging on an angel’s dick and swallowing what quickly came out of it.

Castiel twitched and grunted as he finished. Dean squeezed his eyes tight and worked Castiel through his release and he held tight to the angel’s hip until he stopped shaking and Dean lifted his head and let out a few deep breaths.

The hunter wiped his mouth and chuckled. Castiel stared at Dean intensely, but mostly relieved.

“Well Cas,” Dean said. “Not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that, I got laid.”

The angel and the hunter stared for a moment before both of them broke into a small fit of laughter. Castiel leaned his head back into the pillow below him and Dean hung his and snickered.

“We do appear to have a whole night ahead of us.” Castiel replied with the same look he’d given the hunter the first time that sentence had been said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review!  
> I am running on Destiel fumes and happiness and I’m sure a lot of you might know why, if not I won’t spoil, but DEVELOPMENTS HAVE OCCURRED AND THAT IS ALL I WILL SAY. I will return with Jack and Clark in the next chapter, but I wanted to give everyone this fanservice.  
> See you again real soon!


	11. Eleven

When Clark exited the bathroom, a puff of steam followed him, and Jack almost forgot how to breathe.

The Nephilim couldn’t explain it, but the sight of the young black-haired human standing shirtless before him and running his fingers through his wet hair had rendered him speechless. Jack felt the tugging sensation again as he watched Clark place his wet towel over the back of the officer chair nearby and let out a deep sigh.

“Dude,” Clark chuckled. “Water pressure in there? Phenomenal.”

“I have only experienced this shower,” Jack replied, sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed. He could feel his back aching ever so slightly more than before.

“You’re so literal,” Clark replied, shaking his head, and pulling on a black mid sleeve length Henley shirt. “It was just nice…that’s all. Having a real shower and a real bed to sleep in.”

Jack nodded. He could feel the awkwardness filling the air as Clark sat on the office chair, threading his own fingers together repeatedly.

“Sam told me,” Clark explained. “What you are.”

Jack looked up. His fingers squeezed his legs tightly.

“I knew things were crazy back at the station that day,” Clark continued. “But I never would have guessed this. I mean, angels? Isn’t the Bible supposed to be a load of crap?”

“According to the people in this bunker, yes.” Jack nodded.

Both Clark and Jack broke into smiles first and then laughter. Soon the laughter evolved into cackling and then the cackling to Clark falling out of the office chair and onto the floor clutching his stomach. Jack snorted a few times, covering his mouth with his hand after.

“Man, I thought my life wouldn’t get weird until after graduation.” Clark remarked.

“How old are you?” Jack asked. The question caught Clark off guard, as though nobody had asked him such a thing in years. Nobody had.

“Nineteen.” Clark replied. “I feel older though.”

“Because you hunt?” Jack inquired.

“Something like that,” Clark gave Jack a sideways smile. “What about you? How old are you?”

“ _Old enough to understand things, but not to understand everything.”_

“I suppose in the grand scheme of things I’m still just a child,” Jack replied. “But I am aging every day.”

“You’re more philosophical than a stoner,” Clark said. “I’m sure you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I do,” Jack said. “I…looked into your mind when I was healing you. I hope that doesn’t frighten you.”

“Depends on what you saw.” Clark remarked, but Jack could tell there was more to the statement than just his words. “There’s some crazy shit in there.”

“There’s some crazy shit, as you put it, in my head too.” Jack smiled and Clark chuckled again.

The silence wasn’t deafening this time. The four walls weren’t closing in. Jack felt the warmth in his chest spreading. His back still hurt, but the rest of his body felt as though it were tingling. As if his powers were a physical being.

“Look Jack,” Clark said, his voice coming out softer than before. “Thank you, for saving me. For healing me. Nobody’s ever…cared as much as you have in a short amount of time about me.”

Jack had learned so much over the course of the time he’d spent with the Winchesters. He knew when to eat. When to sleep. What TV shows were good and what shows were bad. What dreams meant (in Dean’s opinion: nothing).

He’d also learned when to not tell as much of the truth as people often did.

“I feel this connection to you,” it wasn’t entirely a lie, but Jack still went with it. “I hope that isn’t weird.”

“Nah,” Clark shook his head. “It’s the strangest thing, ya know?”

Jack looked up again.

“I feel the same way about you.”

***

Sweat pooled on Dean’s chest, but he didn’t care. There was an electrifying feeling surrounding him in the air. His hair was sticking in all different directions. He was practically out of breath and naked from the waist down under the covers that still clung to him. His arm was slung above his head and the ceiling was spinning. His ears were ringing.

Castiel was laying, just as naked, beside him.

Dean looked over at the angel, his eyes still lidded with leftover high from the sex. Dean still couldn’t fathom that word alongside Castiel. Alongside himself.

“Well,” Dean remarked, swallowing his cotton mouth. “That was…something.”

Dean sat up, rubbing at his face with his hands and then got out of bed, shrugging on his strewn about underwear and a pair of pajama pants he’d found on the floor of his bedroom.

“Can I ask you something Dean?”

Castiel’s voice was timid, gentle. As though something could come along and scare it off. Dean ran a hand through his hair and looked over at the angel, still laying in his bed. Castiel was naked, in Dean’s bed.

Dean was fairly sure his brain was going to short circuit if he stared any longer.

“Why did you make the choice, to help me?”

“You’re my friend Cas,” Dean replied. “We’ve been through weirder shit. I wanted to help.”

Dean noticed Castiel’s face had fallen ever so slightly. The angel was clearly taking the word “friend” to heart.

“Cas,” Dean said. “Look this is…new to me.”

“You have been with men before,” Castiel said. “You showed me.”

“No,” Dean replied quickly. “That’s not what I mean. You…you’re different Cas.”

Castiel cocked his head, the sheets pooled on his lower body.

“You’ve always been different.” Dean finished.

“Dean,” Castiel said. “It’s fine if you do not reciprocate anything, I may have been feeling due to this. This was simply a heat cycle and now I have satiated it. Nothing more is expected of you.”

Dean watched Castiel move. He watched him get up from the bed and get dressed, leaving behind a mess of sweat and whatever other fluids they had left behind. Dean watched the angel’s toned and tanned body twist and move as he pulled his clothes back on. The trench coat went on last and Dean felt his tongue go dry the longer he stared.

Before Dean had time to say anything, Castiel was gone in a flap of wings.

The room suddenly felt five degrees colder. Dean pulled a shirt over his head, allowing a small shiver to wrack his spine, and he made his way to the bathroom in his room. After relieving himself, Dean stared at his reflection in the mirror.

His own green eyes stared back at him, blown wide from previous lust that had managed to be satiated and quenched in the span of what had felt like hours, but was truly only one. It was the longest Dean had done anything with anyone.

He could still feel Castiel’s rough hands on his hips, Castiel’s stubble on his chin and neck (it still burned ever so slightly), and Dean, well, he didn’t feel like himself.

He knew he felt freer. Lighter. As though the weight of the last twenty plus years had been lifted in one single moment. One, breathtakingly, earth shakingly, powerful moment.

Now, that moment was over, and Dean didn’t know how else to feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review!  
> Well, I do hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. I promise there will be more positive things to come in terms of both relationships in this story. I am just simply working my way there!  
> See y’all in the next chapter!


	12. Twelve

“Something on your mind?”

Castiel turned to see another familiar angel approaching him and taking a seat on the other side of the bench Castiel sat upon. The Seraph had found himself within the Garden, trying to find solace among the trees and flowers, and trying to get away from his own mind.

Every time he closed his eyes, Dean Winchester was there. The green eyed, chiseled, hunter’s smile danced across his face and Castiel swore he could still feel the man’s fingers on his hips. He closed his eyes tight and sighed before opening them again.

“You could say that much,” Castiel nodded. “Yes.”

“You have many conflictions,” Cathalsis smiled. “I can sense it.”

“It is not me that has the conflictions brother,” Castiel explained. “I’m afraid of what’s to come if I go back.”

“This is the first time I’ve seen you terrified of a Winchester.” Cathalsis chuckled.

Castiel sighed, watching as Cathalsis got up from the bench and motioned for Castiel to follow him. The two angels strolled down the dirt path, watching as butterflies fluttered around and flowers bloomed almost instantly as they walked by.

“It’s strange isn’t it,” Cathalsis said, taking a flower head in his fingers and cupping it. “How complicated things get when humans are involved?”

“It’s easy for you to say,” Castiel turned abruptly and stared hard at the other angel. “Your intended mate isn’t a human!”

Castiel watched Cathalsis stare him down, giving the Seraph a onceover as he slowly let go of the flower. The petals fell out, returning to their natural form, and the color became far more vibrant than before. It was sad, the lack of power in the Garden, not all of looked the way the portion they occupied did.

“You’re scared he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings,” Cathalsis pointed out. “That all this was simply due to the scent you gave off.”

Castiel bit his lip, his fingers digging into his palms as he did. The trench coat felt hotter. His skin felt flushed. His gaze cast downward at the blades of grass beneath his feet.

Dean Winchester’s similar grass green eyes flashed through the angel’s mind.

“Some advice,” Cathalsis touched Castiel’s shoulder and the angel turned back to him. “Humans are a lot more adaptable than we first ever believed. I think you’ll find the same conclusion if you simply just talk to him.”

Cathalsis left in a flap of wings, leaving Castiel in the center of the Garden by himself once more.

***

Dean groaned, his body feeling every moment of the night before. His tired eyes followed him in the mirror as he ran his damp fingers through the spiked mess and straightened it. Dean took a deep breath as flashes of the night before came back to him.

Dean’s hands on Castiel’s hips as his lips met the angel’s cock down South. Dean’s fingers digging into Castiel’s back as he’d thrusted into him until every ounce of energy had drained out of him. Dean’s lips ghosting Castiel’s neck as he kissed it.

It had been a long time since Dean had indulged in that side of himself.

He met Sam out front of the bunker. His brother was waiting for him, leaning against the bumper of the Impala, and holding a bottle of water. Sam smiled and Dean nodded before uncapping the bottle and taking a huge swig.

“If you’re wondering how it went,” Dean commented. “It went.”

“I wasn’t going to ask details obviously,” Sam replied. “I’m glad you finally went for it. The tension has been killing me for about as long as it’s been killing the two of you.”

Dean gave a short exhale of breath and a small smirk before returning his eyes to the dirt. He kicked a few rocks with the bottom of his boot, trying to ignore the growing feeling of nervousness lingering inside his chest.

“This doesn’t make me gay,” Dean blurted.

“I thought we covered that in the car,” Sam said, confused. “You know with the whole, coming out thing that we discussed.”

“I know,” Dean groaned, leaning back into the back of the car, and allowing the rising sun to beat down on his face. “It’s just before now…after Jamie I swore…”

“Never to fall for anyone?” Sam finished for him.

Dean didn’t have to give Sam an answer for Sam to know.

“Dean you know how many times I swore the same thing to myself after Jess?” Sam said. “Too many. Too many that I never allowed myself to even try, despite knowing it wasn’t ever possible with our lives.”

“You said it,” Dean replied. “Not me.”

“What I mean is,” Sam explained. “Jess didn’t know about the life. Jess was…beautifully ordinary. But Cas…he’s-.”

“Something else,” Dean finished, looking up at the same cloud Sam currently had his eyes on.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “Something else. He’s the furthest thing from ordinary. You never liked ordinary. That much I do know about you.”

“Sam,” Dean swallowed hard. “What if…what if this all blows up in my face?”

“I’d say that’s a plausible fear, Dean,” Sam nodded. “Our jobs are based on fear. Our basic instinct is fear. I get it, but I think it’s about time we took fear by the horns and dragged it away for good when it comes to something like this.”

Dean nodded, taking the last drink of his water. Sam held his out and clinked the top of it with Dean’s. The plastic didn’t make a sound, but Dean smiled anyway. The pair each took a drink and smiled up at the blue above them. The clouds danced across the sky.

A smile danced across Dean’s face, the longer he thought about everything Sam had said.

***

“Okay,” Clark started to smile as he pressed a button on the computer on the bed before him and Jack. “How about this one?”

The headphones attached to the laptop drifted up to Jack’s ears as the Nephilim put them on. He closed his eyes and let the music flow through him. The rhythmic beat of the drums, the synthesizers, and the artist’s voice all caused Jack to flood with emotion.

Happiness came first, mixed with another feeling he couldn’t quite identify.

“That was…beautiful,” Jack exclaimed, removing the headphones, and looking over at Clark. “What was it called?”

“The artist is Peter Gabriel,” Clark explained. “The song is _Tonight, Tonight, Tonight._ It’s one of my favorites to just recline my driver’s seat and stare out through the window at the stars. Imagining worlds out there that I know nothing about.”

“Is that what the song means?” Jack asked. “New worlds?”

“Well,” Clark said. “Songs are great because even if they have a solid meaning, you can kind of make your own if you want to. Memories attached to it, creating things because of it, times it was playing while you…made out with somebody, hoping your parents wouldn’t catch you.”

“Did that happen to you?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” Clark nodded and chuckled, looking down quickly and then back up at Jack. “It was…magical. I honestly wouldn’t mind if it-.”

Clark met Jack’s innocent eyes and felt his stomach lurch along with his heart. The strange feeling from before had returned in Jack as well and he could feel his back aching horribly all of a sudden.

“Ah!” Jack cried out and winced as he leaned forward, trying to fight through the spasms.

“Jack?!” Clark exclaimed. “What is it?”

When Clark’s hand contacted Jack’s shoulder, the Nephilim felt a surge of power roll through him. Images went through his mind. Images of Clark and him laughing, walking through a nearby park, and Clark tapped his shoulder like he had his back for the rest of his life. Clark and Jack eating sandwiches on Jack’s bed and dying of laughter as Jack told a bad joke and Clark snot mayonnaise out of his lips into the air and onto the floor. Clark snuggled up under Jack’s blankets while the Nephilim sat in a chair nearby, reading and smiling over at the other young man.

Jack gasped once he managed to get out of his own head and Clark removed his hand from the Nephilim’s shoulder.

“Your back hurts,” Clark figured out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Jack breathed out. “I’m just trying to wait this out.”

“Wait what out?” Clark asked.

Jack swallowed hard, trying his best to think of Castiel’s words. How could he possibly explain this to Clark? Clark was a human. He didn’t have to deal with such things as a backache from emotion. Jack gripped his legs. He could feel the oil slowly leaking from his wings.

There was a knock at the door and Sam quietly entered.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Sam said. “I just figured you guys would want some breakfast. I made pancakes. Whenever you want ‘em you can come to the kitchen.”

“Okay,” Clark nodded. “Thanks Sam.”

Sam nodded back and left the room just as quickly as he’d entered. Jack let out a deep sigh, feeling the pain subside once more, and he met Clark’s eyes.

“I need to tell you something,” Jack said with conviction. “I don’t know if you’re going to like it or not.”

Clark looked confused.

“It’s about you,” Jack explained. “And what you’re doing to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review!  
> More drama, more feelings, and more…filler, I know. I have had a lot of schoolwork due lately, but I have also not wanted to leave you guys hanging for too long. I promise to have a more constructive and planned out chapter soon. The semester is winding down and I will have some time before the new one starts in January and I’m hoping to have some good content out for you guys soon!   
> See you in the next chapter!


	13. Thirteen

Dean sighed as he set the table.

It was something the hunter rarely did, but he had an inkling this particular occasion called for it. Besides, what did one do after being balls deep in angel, but invite him over for dinner and a family meeting?

Dean could think of a thousand other things one did, but this one was the least headache inducing.

The fact that Castiel had practically ran (well, in his case, flown) after their time together told Dean everything he needed to know, or at least everything his brain had decided to tell him.

He did something wrong. He’d hurt Castiel. He’d been too rough. Not loving enough.

It had simply been heat-induced and Castiel didn’t feel the way Dean had recognized he’d felt for years now…

Dean, who rarely prayed, did so in hopes that last one wasn’t the right answer to it all.

He figured if he could get everybody in one room, they could discuss the logistics of the angels’ afflictions before moving forward in any way otherwise. Dean was also the first to admit that he was too chickenshit to face Castiel by himself after such a passionate night and having it end like it did.

Sam knew about what had gone down. He’d hid in his room until Dean and Castiel had worked through whatever had befallen the angel. He would have advice. He would know what to do.

At least, that was Dean’s hope, as he set a fifth setting for his brother and stepped back to admire his handiwork.

“Something smells good,” Sam remarked as he entered the room and then held up his phone. “You texted me?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, pursing his lips against his fingers, and stared longer and harder at the seat in which he hoped Castiel would occupy.

“Any particular reason,” Sam gave Dean a look. “Other than to tell me you decided to make dinner for some odd reason.”

“A man can’t cook in his own bunker?” Dean asked in an accusatory fashion and Sam threw up his hands and shook his head.

“My apologies, Gordon Ramsey.” Sam said.

“I need advice,” Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought about his next words. “I also was hoping Cas and the others would be here for this, but I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Sure,” Sam motioned to the table and both brothers took a seat. “What’s up?”

Dean hesitated a moment, feeling his gut wanting to flip outside of his body. He bit his lip and clenched one of his fists.

“Dean?” Sam pressed.

“Cas left,” Dean lowered his voice in case the others suddenly decided to enter the room. He wasn’t ready for their questions yet too.

“We did what we talked about, and then he just got up and left like I was…I don’t know some one-night stand or something.”

“And you’re offended, I take it?” Sam asked.

“I guess,” Dean replied. “Yeah. I suppose that’s the word for it.”

“You wanted him to stay,” Sam rationalized the situation in a few short sentences. Dean felt a twinge of jealousy that his younger brother had managed to do what he couldn’t in over ten years in a matter of moments.

“You wanted to talk to him about what we talked about.”

“In detail,” Dean clarified. “I showed him everything I told you. I wanted full transparency because…”

“Because?” Sam gave Dean a look and motioned for him to keep going.

“Because I care, alright!” Dean exclaimed. “I never thought I’d ever say it out loud, but I freakin’ care about Cas!”

“In that way.” Sam nodded.

“In that way,” Dean sighed again, running his hands through his hair, throwing his head back, and closing his eyes. “And I’m scared shitless, man. I don’t know what to do here. I feel sweaty, like I’m gonna throw up every five seconds. I don’t know, just-.”

“Like I did when I first talked to Jess,” Sam smirked. “Only that time I did throw up after finding the nearest trash can, but she didn’t know that, even to her dying day. I hate to tell you this, Dean, but I think you may have the “itis”.”

“Scuse me?” Dean gave Sam a look.

“The love “itis”,” Sam chuckled. “Bitten by the love bug? Cupid’s arrow to your ass?”

“You,” Dean pointed at Sam and grabbed the nearest beer to him before taking a swig. “Are never to use those words again. That’s…just so chick flick, man!”

“You secretly like chick flick moments,” Sam remarked and then turned his head at the sound of footsteps approaching.

“He emerges,” Dean gave a curt smile before realizing the look on Jack’s face was less than happy.

“Jack?” Sam asked, suddenly alarmed too. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Clark,” Jack said, swallowing hard and trying to fight back tears. “He’s gone.”

***

Clark sat under the shade of the tree towering above him.

He’d always loved forests. It was strange, still feeling that way even after his mother had been slaughtered in one. He could practically feel the dirt vibrating underneath him with phantom footsteps of her killer, taking one final swing at her before sinking it’s teeth into her neck and swiftly slashing through her organs as she screamed and choked on her own blood.

He should have never let her talk him into hunting.

Now, Clark was truly alone, and he tucked his knees close to his body to prevent the dampness in the air from invading his bones too much.

He hadn’t meant to run away from Jack, but what the Nephilim had admitted had simply been too much to process in that moment and Clark had just needed some time away by himself to think about the words Jack had said.

“ _Let me get this straight,” Clark had said. “You’re in heat?”_

_Jack had nodded._

_Like a dog?” Clark had clarified and Jack had nodded once again._

_Clark had shaken his head in disbelief, trying to process Jack’s words as he stood up from the side of the bed he sat on. Jack cocked his head in confusion as Clark backed away from him._

_“I’m sorry,” Jack shook his head. “I just felt it best to be honest with you. We’re friends now and Castiel always taught me to be honest with my friends.”_

_Clark had nodded once again, still feeling slightly freaked out. Yet, he hadn’t understood why his legs hadn’t carried him out of the room right away and instead had allowed him to stay put and planted before the Nephilim._

_And that tingling sensation close to Clark’s heart had still remained._

_Clark had turned and ran out the door without looking back._

That was how Clark had found himself in the forest behind the bunker. The graying sky above him casting shadows with its clouds upon the leaf ridden ground. Clark ran his fingers over a green, soft patch of moss and tried to calm his nerves.

Jack was unlike anything Clark had ever experienced. They had become friends much faster than Clark had ever become close with anyone he’d known before he’d begun a life of hunting. Yet, there was another feeling that lingered. Something that Clark hadn’t felt for anyone in a long time. It had sauntered into his heart, made a home there, and set him on fire.

It wasn’t as bad as a burn though, the fire behind his skin. It was almost otherworldly.

As though magic were involved, but something deeper and more fulfilling than a curse remained long after the invasion had concluded. Clark closed his eyes tightly, hearing Jack’s laughter in his ears despite the Nephilim being absent. The forest smelled fresh and earthy. Mist lingered in the air.

Clark contemplated going back, but he remained on the ground floor of the woods, feeling tears of both apprehension and happiness fill his eyes the longer he thought about what had transpired.

***

Dean and Sam spun around in circles, backing into one another in the dark, despite their flashlights. They gave one another an annoyed look and continued searching the area for Clark.

Jack used his powers to create his own light, filling the surrounding area with his grace, and he tried not to worry. It was getting colder and darker by the moment and Clark was still missing.

And it was his fault.

“Clark!” Sam called out.

“Clark, c’mon man!” Dean yelled. “Come out!”

A flap of wings was heard, and Dean turned to see Castiel had landed a few feet from the search party with a tired look in his eyes. Dean felt his chest constrict ever so slightly the moment he laid eyes on the angel. He took in the sight of Castiel’s ruffled hair, his weary blue eyes, and his wrinkled trench coat. His hands were clenched at his sides, and he ducked his gaze away from Dean.

“You called me.” he stated.

Dean swallowed a hard lump that was forming. He felt the burn of anxiety and slight sadness welling up in the walls of his throat. He could barely speak.

“Clark’s missing,” Dean’s voice cracked ever so slightly. “Jack’s worried sick. I figured you…wouldn’t mind helping.”

“I will always help you, Dean.” Castiel turned away and his eyes begun to glow.

Dean felt his heart jump again, watching Castiel do his thing. He hadn’t noticed the half smile on Sam’s face the entire time. Castiel extended his hand and closed his eyes.

“He’s this way.” Castiel opened his eyes again and motioned for everyone to follow him. The trees went by quickly as the group crunched through the leaves and tried their best to see in the rapidly setting sun.

Jack jogged ahead, crouching down on his knees once he reached a specific tree. Castiel paused, extending his arm to stop the brothers, and motioned for them to back away along with him. Jack returned his gaze to the ground and shook Clark’s shoulder as he realized the boy was asleep.

“Clark,” Jack swallowed. “Wake up.”

Clark snorted and jerked awake. He shot off the tree with wide eyes and Jack threw out his hands to steady the boy. Clark breathed heavily and clutched where his heart would be.

“It’s cold,” Jack stated. “You’re cold. Why are you out here?”

Clark bit his lip.

“I’m why you’re out here,” Jack sighed. “I don’t know why I asked that.”

“Look…Jack-.” Clark started.

“I’m sorry I put that on you,” Jack shook his head. “It was wrong of me. I just wanted you to know why I was behaving the way I did. I cannot control it. I want to but-.”

“Maybe I don’t care if you control it or not.” Clark timidly spoke up and, for the first time that evening, met Jack’s eyes and kept his gaze. Jack cocked his head, visibly confused.

“Jack,” Clark explained. “I’ve spent a lifetime not getting close to people. I didn’t think it was possible at first, but then I realized it was because of fear. Fear that those people who called me their friends or more than that would leave me. Then, my mom died, and it only reiterated that fear.”

Jack nodded, taking a seat against the tree just as Clark had, but on the opposite side so they weren’t too close. It only made Jack’s back ache more to be close to Clark. Jack felt a deep well of sadness brewing inside him. This was it. The moment he’d dreaded since the black-haired boy had fallen, unconscious, into the bunker. Rejection, and a whopping dose of it at that.

“But I don’t want to think like that anymore,” Clark clarified, and Jack perked up ever so slightly, leaning his head against the side of the tree to slightly look over at the other boy.

“I don’t want to be afraid to have relationships,” Clark continued. “Of any kind, anymore. I don’t want to go my whole life not addressing what I’m feeling right now…for you. What I’m feeling about this life. I just need time and patience, I guess. I’m not perfect.”

Jack carefully threaded his fingers through Clark’s, having noticed the boy’s hand had laid to rest at the ground below them. Clark turned his head to look over at Jack and Jack smiled as he closed his fist around Clark’s hand.

“I am considered far from perfect myself,” Jack stated, and Clark gave a small exhale and a chuckle at the face Jack often made when he was thinking. “But I can work with patience and time, and I am content with being your friend, Clark, if that’s how you would like to start things.”

Clark considered Jack's words, having decided he had seen enough weird things in his short lifetime and time of hunting that he wouldn't allow anything Jack had just told him to freak him out. Jack wasn't human. There were a lot of things about him that were strange. Clark knew that now, and somehow, deep down, it just made Jack far more special. Hell, Clark was special too, in his own ways. Everyone was. It was one of the first life lessons his mother had instilled in him, and even though he'd never listened to her until it was too late to listen ever again, he decided he would definitely heed her advice now and henceforth. 

After all, special wasn't necessarily a bad thing. 

“I’d like that.” Clark nodded and the pair sat for a moment, hands intertwined, looking up in opposite directions, but at the same sky.

***

The rest of Team Free Will had agreed to give the two boys privacy and decided to make the trek back to the bunker with the promise that Jack would fly the two of them home when they were done searching for clouds.

Dean felt as though his head were up in the clouds too.

Castiel stood mere feet from him, awaiting any other instructions or words the boys had for him. Sam thanked him, patting his shoulder, and walking past Dean. Whilst he did, he nudged Dean in the side, egging him on to speak to Castiel. Sam shut the door to the bunker hard and Dean saw Castiel jump ever so slightly.

“You know,” Dean stammered a bit and Castiel turned his head to face the hunter. “There’s food inside. Good food. I made it. I uh…was hoping you’d stay for dinner.”

Castiel turned his head in the fashion he so often did. Dean gave the angel a strangled smile, but a genuine one, nonetheless.

“You look tired Cas,” Dean cleared his throat. “Stay awhile. Please.”

Dean Winchester hadn’t begged Castiel for something in quite a long time. It was clearly important to him, that the angel stayed for food. Though apprehension overtook him, Castiel allowed his weary body to glide alongside the hunter’s into the bunker.

He wouldn’t dare speak aloud the amount of joy that flooded him the moment Dean’s hand contacted his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review!  
> Dean and Cas will talk next chapter I SWEAR! This is one of my longer chapters, but I just so happened to be on a roll, and I know my dear readers will appreciate that fact. Also, I know I tend to leave poor Sammy out of the relationship circuit, but I often find that is closer to canon than most times I try to make him have romance. For the sake of this story, it is implied that he’s either occasionally flirting with Eileen via computer or video call or that he’s getting over her death still. Interpret that either way you desire.  
> School is starting to wind down, so I should have a BIT more free time coming up here soon once final assignments are turned in and a tiny bit of relaxing has finally been achieved. As always, thank you for your patience readers, and the next chapter will be out as soon as I get a chance! I have two more chapters planned. One final one and then an epilogue. Hope to get to those soon and then bring you another wonderful story! :)  
> See y’all then!


	14. Fourteen

There always seemed to be endless laundry.

At least that was what Dean was hoping for as his nerves grew by the minute with every shirt he folded and then carefully put away in his dresser drawers. He swallowed his drying spit, sighed, and closed his eyes.

Dinner had gone well. Jack and Clark had come home about an hour after the rest of Team Free Will had made their way back home to the bunker, and luckily before the food had gone cold. The boys had had two helpings each of the macaroni and burgers Dean had made before taking off, whispers abound, to Jack’s room and closing the door behind them.

Sam had excused himself to spend some time alone. Although, Dean had to admit, he was slightly worried about his brother, but Sam seemed to be doing somewhat better lately. Dean didn’t want to smother him. Sam had; however, encouraged him to take the leap before retreating off to his own space.

Now, Dean stood before his bed, and tried to pick his words carefully.

 _“Cas,”_ he started to pray, after having licked and bitten his lips until they were basically raw.

_“I know you’re still in the bunker. Just…before you leave, I want to talk. I think we need to talk.”_

Instead of a flap of wings, Dean’s door opened, and it closed just as quickly. Dean let out a deep breath and opened his eyes.

“I heard your prayer,” Castiel said. “You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded and clenched his fist before turning around. He found himself staring for a moment upon seeing Castiel again for the second time that night. The angel’s blue eyes were bright under the overhead lights. They honestly sparkled and Dean could feel his stomach sinking in that same way that rollercoasters make people feel before they start rolling down the tracks.

“I think we need to talk about what happened…the other day.”

“Dean…” Castiel started.

“Cas,” Dean threw up his hands and Castiel cocked his head. “I just wanted to clear the air. I didn’t lie when I had said I wanted to help you and it wasn’t just because of whatever was coming out of your back.”

“Wing oil,” Castiel explained. “It was oil…from my wings. It helps keep them healthy and, as you noticed, it also attracts my mate during my heat.”

Dean listened with intense curiosity. He thought back to the day he’d found the tissue in the Impala and the almost immediate effect it had had on him. He watched Castiel’s expression as the angel spoke. Timid, slightly ragged. Castiel was slightly hunched, as though he was trying to hide something and was failing.

As though he was in pain.

“You okay?” Dean asked.

“If this conversation has reached a natural conclusion,” Castiel said. Dean didn’t fail to notice the angel wince and blink tiredly as he turned. “I should return to Heaven.”

Castiel felt the wall reverberate loudly as the door he’d tried to open slammed back shut. He spun around to see Dean’s hand holding it closed and the hunter looking down and away before returning his gaze to the angel’s eyes.

Castiel felt his skin tingle at the touch of Dean’s open palm on his cheek and then watched with wide eyes as Dean slowly brought their lips together and proceeded to rub his thumb on Castiel’s stubble as he did so. Dean repeated the action several times before Castiel finally mimicked them, taking in the entirety of the sensation the hunter was making him feel.

“Please,” Dean breathed out, his eyes still closed, and his forehead pressed to Castiel’s. “Don’t go.”

***

It had felt like an eternity since Dean had begged Castiel not to leave. The angel had obliged, having still been in shock from Dean’s kiss, and was currently buried under Dean’s blankets in his bed, fighting the weariness in his bones and feeling content as warmth washed over him at the feeling of Dean’s arms around him.

The hunter’s toes were cold, but they intertwined with Castiel’s feet anyway. The angel didn’t mind. Dean’s stubble ridden face left the slightest burn on the back of Castiel’s neck the closer he tried to get to Castiel’s body heat. Every time Dean shifted, Castiel felt even more alive.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.” Dean whispered, as though the moment would fleet the second he spoke and Dean slowly snaked his fingers into Castiel’s, closing tightly around his and Castiel didn’t dare move.

Dean had explained it all. Bared his soul, tears falling, knees shaking, and emotion everywhere. Some of which still lingered in the room.

_“I’ve known all my life that there was something…different. Dad didn’t like it. I think he knew, even though he never said it out loud. Can’t blame him though, he came from a different time.”_

Castiel was feeling the leftover effects of a satiated heat. He’d always been told it was better than the alternative. It was nothing like when his past heats had naturally finished by themselves without assistance. Those had always left him doubled over in pain, crying out, and feeling overwhelming emotions to the point of wanting to obliterate himself on his own blade. He never had, but the feelings had always been too intense. 

_“It wasn’t like everybody else when you came into the picture. It was new, it was something that gave me hope. You were a friend, Cas, a best friend, and you still are. And I only used the word brother because I was so afraid of scaring you off. It was the closest thing I’ve felt to love, having Sammy in my life.”_

Castiel smiled as he turned over to face Dean. The hunter seemed to be slightly thankful for the sudden lack of spooning, due to his adjustment of his pajama pants and the embarrassed chuckle that followed. Castiel gave a tired half smile and Dean regarded him with nurturing devotion.

_“I realized my feelings for you a long time ago, I just never acted on them because I assumed you didn’t…that angels couldn’t feel that way. I guess we both had each other fooled, huh? Point is, I don’t want to be fooled anymore. I don’t want to fool each other anymore.”_

Dean handed Castiel a glass of water and encouraged him to drink. The angel had lost so much wing oil and sweat over the course of the week, it was no wonder he was so tired and achy. Dean had, of course, had his fair share of hangovers. He assumed that was the closest it got in human terms to a heat.

_“I know I haven’t always been the best to you, and I regret every instance of that every day of my life. I always will. I don’t deserve you, and you could do a hell of a lot better than me, but I want to be better, Cas. You make me want to want to be better. Every day.”_

Castiel felt his eyes closing, and Dean’s fingers carding through his already messy hair. The angel hadn’t slept since he had been made human for a short time so many years ago. It made angels vulnerable, to be out of their conscious being, and they honestly didn’t require it to live.

_“I just want a chance with you. That’s all I could ever want for the rest of this miserable life I’m sure to have, and I know damn well that having you around could make it a hell of lot less miserable.”_

Dean kissed him again and Castiel allowed himself to curl up closer to Dean’s side, listening to the sound of the hunter’s rapid heartbeat as he slowly drifted off and let the safety of the situation overtake him.

“ _If I haven’t made it clear by now, I want you. I want you in my arms, in my bed. I want to see where this goes because, damn it Cas I care about you, man!”_

Dean’s lips tugged up into a smile. The hunter was wide awake, wanting to savor every minute of the moment. This pivotal moment that had been a long time coming. Ever since Castiel had walked into that barn and Dean had spoken his first words to him, the man just hadn’t known it at the time.

_“I care about you, Dean. I always will.”_

So be it if it was a hunter’s or even a human’s fatal flaw to love. The job had taught Dean that everything was temporary. Nothing and nobody lasted. Every person he had ever loved had left him stranded on a sinking ship, some by no fault of their own and others by choice.

Yet, there was something about watching Castiel sleep that felt infinite.

Even if it was all temporary, Dean wanted it. All of it, until that time ended. He was grateful Sam had given him the final push. He was glad he’d overheard Jack and Clark’s conversation, basically mirroring his exact situation.

Most of all, he was grateful that Heaven and Hell had taken up arms with on one another so many years ago.

If they hadn’t tried to end the world, Dean never would have found his.

Dean squeezed Castiel’s limp hand and smiled. After so many years, it was his turn to watch over the angel.

So, he watched, until he felt his own eyes droop, and he slumped into the pillow below him.

Never once letting go of Castiel’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review!  
> Feels all around. I wanted to break y’alls hearts one more time if the finale and the episode “Despair” didn’t do that enough already. Don’t worry, this is the good kind of break though. The kind that leaves happy tears at the end.  
> I have one tiny epilogue planned (a little vignette in time, if you will) and then that will be the end of this story. In the meantime, stay safe, stay cool, and fair winds.  
> See you then!


	15. Epilogue

_Nine Months Later_

“How much longer?!”

Sam smiled at the sight of Jack and Clark standing a good distance away from where the Impala was parked on the gravelly roadside. Jack was the one who’d called out, excitedly searching the skies for what Sam had prepared him for. Clark’s car, which Jack had gratefully pulled from an impound lot after he'd left it on the side of the road months prior when he'd stumbled into the bunker, sat parked right beside the old muscle car. The two boys had arrived back in town from a hunt, as had Sam and Dean, and, upon hearing what was due to happen that night, the group had agreed to meet on the old backroad outside of town.

“Any minute now!” Sam called back and his smile widened at the sight of the two boys standing beside one another, chatting away about whatever came to mind. He couldn’t hear them, but he could see the passion, the light in their eyes as they spoke to one another, and Jack’s smile widening as Clark pointed up towards the sky and had clearly begun explaining something to the Nephilim with an equally wide smile on his face.

Sam looked over quickly when he felt something cold being pressed into the palm of his hand.

“Some weather we’re having huh?” Dean smirked and Sam chuckled before rolling his eyes and clinking beer bottles with his brother. The pair drank at the same time, training their eyes to the sky, and taking in the vast abyss of darkness and light all the same as the stars twinkled. The moon was new, providing even more of a shadowy backdrop.

Everything was perfect for the spectacle about to happen.

“Crazy isn’t it,” Dean mentioned. “How we can even find a moment like this in all this chaos?”

Between all the madness from Hell and the chaos Jack had brought into their lives just by his mere existence, The Winchesters had barely found a moment to breathe, much less enjoy something together.

“Well,” Sam replied. “I, for one, am glad everything that’s happened lately has allowed you to slow down, even if it’s only for a moment.”

“I know how to chill out.” Dean said in an accusatory manner, giving Sam a look as he did.

A flap of wings was heard and both brothers turned their heads with a smile, although Dean’s was significantly bigger than Sam’s.

“And I have known you long enough now,” Castiel replied to Dean’s statement with a look of his own, shrouded in a smile. “To know that is a gross exaggeration.”

“Bite me, Cas.” Dean chuckled and took another drink of his beer.

“Castiel!” Jack waved excitedly from across the way. Clark lifted his hand in acknowledgment, the other gripping the side of a rather strange, but cool and vintage looking, camera that hung around his neck. Castiel waved back at the two boys and grinned wider upon hearing Jack call out and point at the sky as a quick bright object whizzed through the blackness and then disappeared moments later.

“He made the camera himself,” Dean commented, pointing at the boys as they took off running to the highest point of the hill before them and Clark practically threw his knee on the ground as he crouched and looked through the viewfinder and snapped a picture.

“Jack did. It can capture anything you want it to.” Dean finished and took another sip of his drink.

Suddenly, the sky was alight with star after shooting star. They materialized as quickly as they vanished. The members of Team Free Will all looked up, feeling overwhelmed at the purity of the sight.

Dean smiled. When Sam had been young, he’d woken him up many a time to show his younger brother such marvels as shooting stars and eclipses. At the time, John would have deemed it insignificant compared to anything having to do with the job, the mission, but Dean always begged to differ.

It showed just how small such things were in any given moment in time.

The hunter took in Castiel, staring wide eyed and a bit stiff at the night sky, and Dean took the angel’s hand in his. Sam was transfixed, so he took that time to slowly bring Castiel’s hand to his lips and kiss it. It wasn’t the discomfort that overtook Dean any longer, it was more the fact that Sam wouldn’t have stopped teasing him for hours if he’d seen the small act of love.

Dean secretly liked it. The teasing.

Although, he’d never tell Sam that aloud.

Shooting stars reminded Castiel of one of his darkest times, Dean knew that, but he’d also explained the beauty of the act of nature to Castiel many a time since then, and the angel had listened. Those thoughts still lingered. Dean knew that better than anybody else.

For that, he squeezed Castiel’s hand tighter, the more stars that fell.

Jack threw his arms around Clark, the pair stumbling for a just moment before laughter filled the chilly air. Their breath coming out in hot puffs of moisture clouds.

Dean and Sam “cheers’d” again. Their beers almost all the way consumed. Dean squeezed Castiel’s hand again and the trio leaned up against the front end of the Impala, watching an endless sea of magic above them for what seemed like a lifetime in just a matter of moments.

And yet, that made it all the more infinite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review!  
> There you have it, that’s all folks! Many thanks to those who took a chance on this story and added it to their fanfiction arsenal of feels. I do hope I provided. In terms of future fics, I have several other ideas planned for some time soon, but they are nowhere near ready to publish. I will be continuing my last fic in my "In My Hands" series in the meantime until that is done and I do hope those who haven’t already, will check that out as well. It has Destiel, Sabriel, and plenty of fun OCs and plotlines to keep you entertained. Stay tuned for those and more as I continue my headfirst dive back into my fanfiction journey!  
> As always, thank you all for all you do, and I hope to see y’all in the next story!

**Author's Note:**

> Read and Review!  
> Howdy y’all! Coming at you live with another fic and this one’s gonna be a hell of a ride. I loosely based this fic off of an Omegle roleplay I did featuring Dean and Cas, but I figured I would just shake things up a little bit and add in some extra elements. I really hope everybody has a good time reading what I have in store for you.  
> I am still deciding whether I want to go the smutty route or not, so for now, the rating is mature, but that may change.  
> See you in the next chapter!


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